When I was ill, my mum came to the hospital twice a day, every day to sit by my side.
She nursed me back to health for almost a year, while I recovered from major surgery.
No one else was there, no calls, notes, texts or visits from anyone; it was just me and mum.
It was always just me and mum against the world, being there for each other.
Even if life took us apart in different directions, we'd orbit back to one another.
Now you've gone, I've left the other half of me, my orbit, my gravity.
I can't ever repay you for all you did for me, but I promise to carry forward your values and attitude throughout my time on Earth, sharing the wisdom you passed onto me.
xxx
Rebecca
17th September 2016
My mum was the kind of woman that picked up hitchhikers and gave them money to buy food and onward travel train tickets.
My mum was the kind of woman that got herself excluded from school when she was a child, for preventing a teacher from beating a small boy, who wet himself from fear of that beating.
My mum was the kind of woman who'd stay aware through the night to take care of someone ill.
My mum was the kind of woman who with without essentials so others could experience luxury.
My mum was the kind of woman who would fly 5000 miles to help one of her children.
To me, Mum is a synonym of; integrity, love, advocacy, ethics, morals, values, principles, honesty, knowledge, strength and protection to name but a few.
I miss and love you so much.
Till we meet again,
Rebecca
x x x
Rebecca
17th September 2016
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message She Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
Mum was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Rebecca
16th September 2016