I went to see mum earlier.
My brave, beautiful, strong mum. The lady who doesn’t deserve what the past 5 years have thrown at her.
We looked at each other, hugged, then both burst out crying. I hung on to her frail little body like my life depended on it.
Most days I’m strong. Strong for mum.
I put ‘it’ (mums ill-health) to the back of my mind. I carry on regardless. People think I’m happy go-lucky. Basically I’m coping the only way I know how.
Today however I’m feeling vulnerable.
It’s hard putting a brave face on things all the time.
That said, I refuse this to be a ‘woe is me’ piece. Continue reading