Hello Mum...

I can't believe it's three years since I last held your hand, told you I loved you and whispered goodbye.

The last two 30th Octobers have been days to be gotten through, with distractions and tasks and plenty to keep my mind and hands occupied and for the most part it worked. But not today.

It started this morning in the kitchen when I heard your laugh, so clear and true. It stopped me in my tracks. Even more so when I realised the sound had come from my own mouth. That made me laugh even more. How come I never noticed how alike we are when you were here?

I see my hand holding Alan's hand and it's your hand. I pull a face at something distasteful and can feel the contours of your face in my grimace, I catch a glimpse of myself in the kitchen window as I peel the potatoes and your steady gaze looks back at me, even words and phrases that tumble out my mouth are parroting you and in your tone of voice. You would be astonished at the likeness!

Or perhaps you always knew. Mum's know these things, don't they? :)

This is one of my favourite photos of you. You were 19 I think. Bridesmaid at a friend's wedding and your whole life ahead of you.

Dwelling on the events of the evening of Sunday 30th October 2011 is immensely painful for me but at the same time, I feel extremely thankful to have spent those final hours with you and to have held your hand as you left the pain and suffering behind. It feels right that we were together as you took your last breath, just as we were together when I took my first. It brings me great comfort.

And now it is time for me to return to the usual early evening routine. Dinner to make, washing to fold, pile of ironing to ignore. And I have no doubt that before this evening is out, I will have heard your laughter a few times more.