REDAMANCY [h.s. au]

31

*talk of death of a parent, grief, anxiety

"Your hand on my back,
slow tenderness to soothe me.
How did you learn this?"
- Tyler Knott Gregson

⭑Holland⭑

~two weeks later~

Life has become so sweet lately that the absence of my mum not being here hasn't cut through me the way it so glaringly used to.

So it was a surprise to me when I saw the date on Harry's calendar in the kitchen and realized what day it is.

Four years since she passed.

The first thing I felt was guilt. Just heavy, bloody, guilt. It was guilt for not realizing sooner the significance of the date. Guilt that I'm happily just living life and she should be here but she's not. Guilt for not honoring her better.

My heart sank and anchored itself to that sadness.

Then, after the guilt, in tumbled the hollow ache of despondency. And I was once again reminded of her absence and the things she's missing out on. She never got to see me start my own business. Never got to see me finally face Harry and eventually accept his apology. She never got to see me fall back in love—the kind of love that I know she always wanted for me.

And now, being with Harry and having this amazing, promising life with him, I realize just how much mum is going to miss in my life.

It's funny how strangely grief acts. Sometimes, it only lurks in the darkened corners and mostly leaves me alone. Sometimes, it seems so minuscule that I hardly recall it being there. Sometimes, it likes so jump out at me and make itself known for a moment before passing along. And sometimes, it makes a big show of itself—like right now.

I stand in the hallway, hand against the wall to stabilize myself. Deep, rattling breaths that are a prelude to heaving sobs shake my chest. My body has gone quiet, numb—like a calm before a storm is unleashed.

Trying to pull my thoughts anywhere else, I crumble to the floor. Blurry eyes and bones that feel like jelly, unstable.

No, no, no.

And suddenly, the grief of losing her hits me hard, a punch to the gut, an avalanche of emotion. My eyes sting and I clutch my body, like if I don't, I may shatter and fall to pieces all around the hardwood floor. I know I'm crying but I don't hear anything around me. It's just the ear-defeating silence of her absence and thought after thought materializing itself on the silver screen in my mind.

You wont get to call her when you get engaged.

Your mum won't be able to zip up your wedding dress and tell you how beautiful you look.

You wont get to tell your mum that she's going to be a grandma.

She won't be there with you in the hospital, telling you everything will be alright, when you give birth.

She won't be able to give you sage advice about motherhood when you're in over your head with a newborn baby.

You wont get to experience any of that.