There are still firsts at 41

I had a wonderful lunch with two of my favourite women today. I am on a couple of weeks leave - pre-arranged, even before the sudden death of mum on June 30th. It was nice to sit and be honest with these women who love me unconditionally. I could say things, even if they aren't really polite or correct. Things about my mother I probably shouldn't say but think anyway. Things about the way I felt about her. Things about how unfair it all is. Like how at 65 she was way too young to die now.

She was a selfish woman. She used to say that everyone has to die from something. True. But do we all want to die at a young age? I don't? I have lots of living left to do. I don't want to die at the cusp of retirement. She still hadn't retired yet. They had plans - now they can't follow through on them.

I remember seeing the coffin and thinking - this is just like motherhood, you read about it, but nothing can really prepare you to bury your mother........

The more time I have to think about it all I am upset. When we were there dealing with the actual stuff, like funerals, phone calls, the wake, you don't have time to think. I do now. I have started to grieve now. I get upset. I want to cry, but don't. I talk myself out of it. Why? Don't know. I cry at other things instead, like articles in the paper, songs on the radio.

I feel so much loss for my dad. He loved her, with all his heart. Didn't have a bad word to say about her. He is trying to move on. When I spoke to him last night, he seemed a little down.

I want to ask her things, but I don't want to know the answers.

So I've come back from my first breakdown tonight. After spending the day with my best girlfriends and talking. It was like this wave of sadness it just was coming and washed over me and I was too tired to fight it. I feel so much better now. Maybe it was this. The writing. Maybe that's why I've chosen to write this?

Not sure, but it feels good.