Six Years

Dear Ma,

Well we’re here again, another year….. and I’ve got nothing to add to that.

Well I do, it isn’t very often when I’m totally speechless.

I think what I mean to say is, what can I add to that? It’s another year on, some days I miss you keenly, other days your memory is a thread that if pulled would mean I’d come undone. Don’t judge but sometimes, for sanity I choose not to pull.

What I am learning is that there is no rhyme or reason to these days. Often times I can steel myself for an event and be absolutely fine and then on a sunny day in June, I’ll be stifling tears in a supermarket because the spinach has jolted a memory.

Grief dances to the beat of it’s own samba band and what can you say in the face of that? Nothing much, you just have to dance along the best you can.

So anyway, there’s news, there’s always news. Even when I plan for a quiet year something comes up.

I’ve left theatre, well it’s actually only been a week, but I’m starting my own business so I’ve left theatre. I actually wrote a blog post about it, it went viral so that’s something to check off my bucket list. It’s weird writing that I’ve left theatre to you, in some ways I think I stayed so long because it connects me to you but so many other things do and it’s time to be a slightly different me.

I’m opening a massage studio; I’m basically taking all things I like the most in life and placing them in a beautiful setting and hoping other people enjoy it too. I’m excited. I’m excited to the extent that I can be excited, which is heaps while still waiting for the other shoe to drop (was I wary when you were still here? I often think your illness was when I became a slightly more pessimistic human, I think my own cancer finished me off, if you’ll excuse the rather unfortunate turn of phrase).

Actually you started me on this road too, enrolling me on a weekend workshop the summer after you were diagnosed. I think mostly, so I wasn’t just hanging about the house, making sure you weren’t going anywhere. Or maybe because in a weird Mama bear psychic link thing, you predicted this, I’m not sure I can whole heartedly get behind that theory but I know better than to mess with the Mama Bear Juju.

So here I am, at the start of a New Year, figuring out a new path in life. Another one. Without you. I’ve done a few of these now and it still blows me away, the influence you have on me, do parents know this at the time? Is that what makes childrearing so scary? That years after you are gone, your echo remains? Is that why people have kids (other than the continuation of a species, which I’m not going to lie, I sometimes have my doubts about) so that something of you remains and continues. I suppose it is comforting, along side being totally scary.

And here I am again at the end of our annual commune via the ethernet. Your echo remains. This dance for me continues and the year rolls out in a blanket of unknown future choices.

I love you Ma, of that there is no doubt and if in the star dust you now are the Mama Bear Juju is still strong, can you sprinkle some on the new business? I thank you.

Miss P


ps O is Love