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The Future Has Not Evaporated
When someone dies, you might feel angry, you might feel confused, you might feel totally and utterly heartbroken or you might feel nothing at all. I don’t really believe in the seven stages of grief that everyone talks about. I just believe that everyone handles pain differently and, as individuals, we don’t have the capacity to understand how others actually feel, let alone cope. So, instead of offering you guidance, I will offer you aspects of how my Mum raised me and how that has shaped my future.
My mum died when I was fourteen. I can’t offer advice that will prepare you for the pain you will feel when you lose someone you love. It feels like you’re drowning in an aquarium tank and everyone is looking in at you, blind to what is going on inside. All aspirations and hopes for the future are obliterated and distorted in the very depths of grief. What I came to realise at this time, however, was who my mum actually was when she was not just being a Mum to my sister and I. She was also a wife, a sister, an aunt, a friend, a mental health nurse and so much more. Stories of her life and parts of her personality came to light throughout this period, and from them, I was able to collect more memories, even after her passing. A bittersweet aspect of death.
She was the strongest person I have ever known and probably ever will know. She seemed invincible and at a young age, you know death exists, but the finality and inevitability of it is often misunderstood and you innocently presume that your parents will live as long as you do. This was a naivety that I soon lost. However, in our time together, she raised me to be strong and resilient just like she was, despite predicaments and obstacles life threw at her. My sister and aunty are the same, which is nice because it means I get to see the best parts of her come out in both of them too. The women in my life, past and present, have been and always will be the people that I admire.
My mum was always the life and soul of every party and event she attended. She had a certain light in her presence that everyone who knew her, noticed and adored. She was also always the type of person to help out where required, knowing exactly what to do and say. This was perhaps the nurse in her nature, but it was an amazing attribute that I will never forget, and so many other people appreciated.
She knew she was sick before she went to the doctors, but she just didn’t want to face having to leave us all. This is the only time her personality failed her, but I can’t dwell on the past. The sadness I feel about losing her never really goes away and I can’t deny that each day of my life passes a little bit emptier than it would have were she still here. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t have a future, just one much different that I had anticipated.
I still sometimes bring out two teacups instead of one and I still get that same exhilarated feeling when something good happens because I want to go home and tell her about it, but I the two teacups are never used and can’t ever tell her. However, there is comfort in the knowledge that she is still out there somewhere, watching me, laughing with me and witnessing the good (and the bad, sorry Mum). I have an integral determination to prove to her that I can be everything and more than she hoped for me.
I would argue that grief is perhaps the worst thing you will ever feel, but in situations such as my own it can really shape a person. My mum shaped me into the individual I am today, and regardless of her absence, her strength and wisdom paved a future for me before she went. Nothing prepares you for the sadness, but how you handle it can certainly prepare you for life. What needs to be understood is that life will never be the same again, but what needs to be remembered is that that is okay. You have experienced pain, sadness and been scared but you can survive it. Feelings can’t break you. They are debilitating and hurtful, but they will fade, and you can think about it all and celebrate your resilience.
I have chosen not to dwell on what could have been and look to the future as something to embrace as it comes. I have had to consider the future I want to create, rather than something out of my control. I can’t predict what will happen, so I must take each moment as it is and do what I can, with what I have. I have the legacy of a brilliant woman to live out, providing me with a future of endless possibilities to leave my mark on the world. It is more than a privilege to have half the genes of such an amazing woman, let alone be able to embody parts of her in everything I do.
2020 is nothing like the world she left in 2015, but if she saw the corruption and inadequacy of humanity today, I know she would have something to say about it. But because she can’t, I will. Since she left, I have grown, and I have changed into a person she may not immediately recognise but now, with her characteristics carried with me, she would recognise me as the tangible force of what she would have done, if she faced the world as it is today. I have taken charge of who I am and who I want to be.
I love you, Mum, and until we meet again, this one is for you.