433 days…

Another celebration day we have endured.

I hate these days.  Birthdays.  Easter. Christmas.

They just pour salt on the wound of your absence.

It was most definitely worse that last year’s mother’s day when we were still in a fog, still surrounded by people desperately trying to make it OK.

I read the facebook entries of Mums who were pampered today.
Loving husbands who have taken up the slack and cooked and cleaned.
who selected gorgeous gifts of jewellery or chocolates with the kids to go with the hideous hats and toxic-waste-masquerading-as-“luxury”-body-lotion that the kids picked out from the school Mother’s Day stall.

…and I felt sad a lonely.

until I remembered that you were complete crap at any and all presents anyway, and as for being pampered, the most  I could have hoped for was a coffee brought to me at morning tea.


and I realised something about K today….

Each time she leaves my side, be it to go to bed or to go to class…. she says:

“Goodbye Mummy.  I love you.”

She often adds “Sweet Dreams” no matter the circumstance.

and it hit me like a punch in the gut that she does this because of the morning of March 1, 2010.

She was not having a good Monday morning that day, and instead of hugging you and telling you she loved you during family cuddle time, she was grumpy and stormed off.

… and THAT is the last time she spoke to you.


and she’ll never forget that.

I asked her about that just now and she said she thinks your death is her fault.  She promised God she’d be good for a whole year if he kept her family safe.

and according to her, she WAS good for a whole year.

but her family weren’t safe.

I tried to explain that it’s not her fault.

That it’s nobody’s fault.

but I don’t think she believed me.

We miss you.

We love you.