It’s coming close now, that time of year when carols are sung, traffic is bumper to bumper and shop queues snake all the way around the stores. Yes, it’s Christmas, when family is together and all gathered around the fireside, fed and full and all playing board games or watching a family favourite film on TV. Well, that’s what they want you to believe if the many ads are what we should go by. But the first year, after, Mum, I mean Lillian, died, Christmas was horrendous.
Lacey is resting this week, she’s not coping very well with life at the moment, so it falls to me, her brother to write a few lines. I’m Robert, her older brother but you probably know that. She’s my baby sister, sorry, you probably know that too. At the moment all our lives are up in a heap after my mother died. Gosh how I miss her. I thought losing Dad was difficult but for some reason I thought Mum was going to last forever. Stupid, I know, I just didn’t want to lose another parent.
When I lost my father, my world exploded into tiny fragments that I could never gather up again. But with time comes healing. I really thought nothing so awful in life would strike twice, but I was wrong. I found mum that day, slumped over the chair. Seeing her slouched, still, she looked so small, like she was sleeping I suppose.
Sitting in the garden at my parent’s house recently, I was thinking about all the fun I had as a child playing there. I have three siblings, Willow, Sally and Robert. Being the youngest in the family, they did spoil me. My brother is closest to me in age. We really had fun times, I even know the off-side rule in soccer because of him.
Losing a loved one is never easy and remembering them is constant, especially as their anniversary comes round. That’s what I’m facing shortly, Dad was taken quickly from us. He was young, not that it’s ever a good age to lose someone who is your world or otherwise.