Darling mum

February 2019 - How do you feel as you grow up, get old, lose your family and friends? Did you love your parents? Where are they? Did you have a dog you loved? Alice wondered...

Darling Mum

It's ten years since I left you, five years since I saw you... and far too long since you've written to me. I don't even know where to send my letters for you now. I have written to you quite a lot, at least recently. I miss you every day, every week, every year. I wish I knew where you are.

You were the angel of my childhood. You were passionate and sensitive, you cared for me, took me out, dressed me up. You made beautiful dresses for me, you massaged me, you brushed my hair, you danced with me, you walked with me. As you grew old I became a carer for you, cherished you. I rubbed your feet, I brushed your hair: such soft and beautiful grey hair! We talked together and laughed together. But I know, as I grew up and visited you less, you became lonely. Your love for dad seemed to get stronger without me or anyone else there... except that dad had vanished from your home, ten years ago. I never knew why, but I knew you were bereft. I saw your tears when I came to visit you, five years ago. Now I feel them too.

I wondered if you made any new friends, or if you had got back together with dad. Did you find him? Where was he? He should have told you! You would have loved whatever the both of you would do! You didn't fly - but you didn't need that. Taking the car was better for you, enjoyable for you. Or taking a boat! Ferry across to the other island and drive all around it! I know he wouldn't have left you if he could have stayed. I missed him terribly... I still do.

I never planned on moving so far away from you, but I was living just with my beautiful best - only - friend, Bridget, and still feeling so much love for you and so much guilt for me. Getting old can make people happier, and I truly wonder if that has helped you. I saw you after five years when I came for a very quick visit before I went into hospital. I tried to talk with you about it; I chose not to tell anyone except you about what happened to me because it wasn't my best life - I knew you wouldn't gossip about me - but it didn't happen. It was my problem, my body. I haven't seen you any more since then, but I wrote to you when I got out of hospital. You never wrote back. I feel like I have no friends, not now, not in those years after I became alone, worn out and shut in.

I know I hadn't written to you much at all in those years, but I never heard from you either. I tried. I wrote about things we did. I think I finally grew out of the grief I held for you. I didn't choose to be alone, but I am. Just Bridget. She kept me company... not the same way that you could have, but she was so lovely, and cared for me when I became sick. I lost all my friends, slowly, when I was still in hospital, when I became alone. Just Bridget to keep me company. I had to have her with me. I needed her. I planned on holidaying, become a younger you and travel! Just do it, I said to myself... just DO IT! When I finally got out of hospital Bridget and I had so many wonderful days - weeks! We talked about flying around the world, stopping at so many countries that I couldn't remember; eating so much food that I can't remember... but we were so happy. I'm not making this up, mum. This is ME! Capital letters and italics! ME!

Bridget would have loved it too, but she wasn't young. She couldn't have come, either, so I didn't go. Anyone like Bridget wouldn't ever belong in a young person's nightclub! I cuddled her when I lived with you, I cuddled her when she came with me, ten years ago. I hugged her when she watched me taken to the hospital, and hugged her again when I got home. I hugged her for all-around-the-world feelings! We hugged so much, and she grew so old in my arms! She died this year. I grieved for her, I miss her so much. She reminded me of you. She was just an old, lovely friend. Oh Bridget, I am grieving for you the way I used to grieve for my mum.

Mum, you always were an old lovely woman. I miss you so much in the five years since I last saw you, half of our separation. I wanted your support when Bridget came with me. I wanted your support when she crossed the rainbow bridge. Dogs can't live longer than she did. I fell over myself with all of my grief. I wanted your support when I was alone. I wanted your support because you are my mum. I loved you all of my life.

I can't tell myself what's happened to you, but I know I didn't post any of the letters I wrote to you: I found them in the bottom drawer in my dresser. I shouldn't have forgotten about them, but my memory is different now. I don't even have your address! This letter will probably get filed with them. I am now entirely alone, and I miss you so, so much, and living alone is so, so lonely. No Bridget, no dad... no you. So, so lonely.

If you read this, mum, please can you please support me. If I never hear from you again, what will I think of you? Where are you?

Where are you?

I love you
Alice