The bad kind of anniversary: the anniversary of a death
Life & loss

The bad kind of anniversary

Two years ago.

My Mum died two years ago today. It is so hard to believe that so much time has passed and it is now the second anniversary of her death. It still hurts so much.

The tears keep falling

I have been bawling most of the morning. In the shower; while eating breakfast; as I write this. I am trying to do all my crying, so that I am not still bawling when I have to pick my daughter up from kindergarten. She is still young. While she understands that Mummy is sad, she doesn’t really understand the permanency of our loss or that today is the anniversary of her death. 

Just when I think the tears have stopped, something else will set me off. Like putting on my necklace, the one that my Mum gave me for my 40th birthday. It was hers and she wore it every day. It has a small diamond pendant that she was given by my Dad when I was born. Making a cup of coffee set me off again when I admitted to myself that I should probably have a mocha or a cup of tea. Then it was trying to work out what we should have for dinner. Tonight, I would like to cook something in memory of my Mum, but I am not sure that I will be able to cook it or eat it without bawling. 

I am crying for our loss. I am sobbing because I could really do with one last hug from my Mum. I hurt when I think about the things that she is not around to experience and see, especially Miss M growing up. I am sad about that unfinished bucket list. I am heartbroken, because Miss M does not remember Mum well, and was too young to really get to know her. I am bawling because life continues, but somehow it does not. 

But this blog helps

Fortunately, I no longer miss the opportunity to share things with my Mum. It took me until nearly the second anniversary of her death, but now I am taking time out to have tea with my Mum regularly. Although this blog is still new, I can already feel the positive effect it is having. Instead of bottling up my thoughts and grief, I have an outlet and a way to communicate. I am not sure that my Mum can hear me, but sharing is serving its purpose in this process.

What, a book?

Amid all the crying today, I did some thinking about what I could do to honour my Mum’s memory. I think I would eventually like to write a recipe book, showcasing my Mum’s favourite recipes:

  • The few things that she would cook and the many things she would bake
  • Those family favourites that she would request for her birthday or Mothers’ Day
  • Foods that she would choose when we went out to eat
  • Meals that she tried when traveling and loved, lovingly recreated
  • A big focus, of course on dessert.

Mum was famous for looking at the dessert menu first to choose what pudding she wanted. This would tell her how much space to leave in her stomach and allow her to adjust her other dish(es) accordingly. Normally, she would just have an starter or soup to make sure that she would be able to eat all of her chosen dessert. 

Perhaps, instead, it will be a cookbook and travel book combined. It would include photos of places she or we visited, recommendations of things to see and something to try when you are there. And a recipe for something from that place or recreation of something we tried. This is a very specific niche – I haven’t been able to find anything similar unless it is about street food.

What do you think? Would you be interested in buying such a cookbook? 

This might be my long-term aim for this blog. Along the way, I will continue to write about all the things happening in our life, including the DIY changes to our home, and our parenting wins and fails. This blog will also be a place to practice recipes (and my writing) and to report about our travels. Some things might end up in the book, but some will not.

I am going to go and have a cup of tea now. And chat with my Mum. Probably with more tears, but that is alright. 

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