Two years

Today is the second anniversary of my mum's death.  It's hard to take it all in - two whole years without her, and not a single day has passed without feeling the pain of her loss.

I always remember when it was my gran or papa's anniversary of their death, in February and April respectively. Every year my mum would mention it, but that would always be followed by a comment that "it's just a date, it's not any more important because you miss them equally every day".  And so I thought of that today.  My mum was not one for anniversaries, and birthdays weren't really for celebrating either.  So she will probably be looking down on me today, shaking her head and uttering a few choice words.

I didn't know how I would feel, two years on.  On the one hand, I've surprised myself at how well I've coped over that time - that seems to be everyone else's perception of me too.  You hear all this "time heals" stuff and that it "will get better".  Well, that's only partly correct.  In my own experience, grief has no expiry date. You adjust, rather than heal.  Over recent months I have experienced the most frightening episodes of deep grief imaginable. Some of it has been worse than the immediate sadness which I experienced after losing her.  But it could have been so much worse.  I don't know where I would have been without the man you all know as faithful travelling companion.  He really has saved my life and my love for him is endless.

For the last two years, grief has been part of my life.  It is not something that can be switched off, or thrown out.  But it's something I have learned to live with.  So today I am not really doing anything special.  Just remembering my mum with love.  As I do every day.