For the past 6 weeks, she'd hardly been herself at all. About 5 weeks ago, I cried for an entire weekend because it felt as if she'd already gone. There were still sparks of her left, the odd comment, the odd facial expression, this and that, though on the whole, not my mum.
This week has been busy. Seeing family members that we haven't seen in some time, organising finances, mortgages, pensions, credit cards, bank accounts. Sending back passports and driving licenses, organising a funeral, letting people know, organising a wake.
The funeral is on Wednesday. I have never felt more dread for a day in all my life.
People have been kind. Our house resembles a branch of Clinton's cards. Every day brings a fresh batch of cards, letters, flowers. A lump forms in my throat every time I read words of praise for my mum, for the work she did with young people, the lives she's touched, the people that will miss her.
To those people, I would like to say a huge thank you. I'd also like to send infinite thanks to all of the people who came round and helped make her final weeks so comfortable. All of the carers, nurses, doctors and friends who did what they could and selflessly gave their time.
I miss her a lot. I miss having someone to call up at any hour of the day, and whinge incessantly about things that were no ones fault. I miss someone telling me "it'll be alright, El" and then easing my moaning with inconsequential nonsense about famous people in the vets, or a really good sandwich that had been purchased that lunch time.
I would give every time I've ever been caught doing something I shouldn't be, every time I've been ticked off for something, every time I annoyed her, just to have her back for a minute.
My mummy; my best friend. I will miss you forever.
