Being me in the world
Small things can act as triggers to such great things – or great reactions.
Today, we went for a game drive around Dinokeng. I was reminded of driving in 4x4s on the farm. It brought back so many memories of Dad and I missed him so much. Then, later in the day, I saw a post Carl had put on Facebook of a photo of Mum. There were some lovely comments from different people, saying how lovely she was and how much they miss her. That opened the floodgates.
I miss both of them so much. I still can’t actually compute that Mum has gone.
I still seem to miss her most when I am physically most distant from where she has ever been with me. It’s as though I just want to phone her to tell her about where I am and what I am doing. In Joburg, at the farm, in Sedge, it’s more that she seems to be in the next room. Here, for example, she feels distant because I have no memory of her being here with me, so I want desperately to be able to tell her all about it.
I know she’s here with me and I know she knows, but I just want to be able to talk to her.
Today I also find the thought of the whole cancer thing as some kind of strange memory that may have happened to someone else. Or to me in another timeframe. So strange, to be the ‘victim’, but to feel so removed.
Maybe this is a way my psyche has of healing itself. Maybe it’s just the ability we all have to move on, as there are other things that happen and so many other demands in life.
Moving on is what happens all the time. We all have our own pace of moving, though, and we have to learn to allow ourselves to be taken along on the ride.
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