I have a yearning to travel again; explore new places. To sit in hidden coffee bars that smell of tobacco, sun oil and ‘Brut’ . Places where nobody speaks English . Sipping coffee, watching the world go by.
To lie on sandy beaches where the only thing I have to worry about is whether I’ve shaved my legs, reapplying my sun lotion and what to eat next.
To drink over-priced cheap alcohol and dance to Euro ‘clappy clappy’ songs well into the early hours.
Make and collect new memories
When mum died I felt like a huge part of me died too . Travel … life in general lost its flavour. I was vanilla in a pistachio world. I just wanted my mum and hated the world for taking her from me.
I still think about my mum every single day. Some days it’s just a fleeting memory. Some days it feels as though I’m punishing myself and everything resonates back to her
It will be 3 years in July since she died, the fact that I’ve not spoken to or held her for that long is unfathomable. So much has happened over those 3 years. Stuff that she has not been a part of. Yet weirdly I like to believe that she hasn’t missed out on anything because I carry her everywhere with me
She is my smile and dark sense of humour. I can hear her in my mucky laugh and see glimpses of her in my reflection . She is my mischievous side. The way my bum looks flat and square in my work trousers and my overly wrinkly hands. She is the way I curse at everyone and everybody in the car . She is coffee and a slice of carrot cake …my love of fun … Kitchen discos and party games
She is very much alive; she is part of me and she’s telling me it’s time for some pistachio 💕
