Monday, September 9, 2013

This is part of the harbour where my parents' ashes are scattered. Last night I went for a walk and went by my mum's old apartment. There is someone else living there now. I haven't been back inside the building since I turned in her keys. I can't. Everything brings back memories.

Last night when I went to bed, I started crying. I still miss my mum. Not the sick mum who was suffering so much but the mum who would go for walks with me, who liked a dirty joke, who had such a wonderful sense of humor. I thought I was okay but I'm not. The black dog is back. I hate depression. It is a soul sucker.

I took myself down to the dog park this morning for an early morning walk.  I listened to the birds, spotted a procrastinating robin who has not yet left, watched the mist slowly evaporate as the sun rose.  Part of the river bank collapsed with the flooding we had this summer and there is now a sandbank part way out into the river where there was none before.  The leaves are turning color, gently falling to the ground. 

Even with all this beauty around me, I still miss her. 


  1. Your sorrow is poignant. I am grateful that you are able to access such physical beauty as you mourn the loss of your mother. I can imagine that loss returns, ebbs, returns, ebbs -- much as the soil erodes, beaches appear, waves rock the shores. Sending love and peace to you.

  2. I am told from wise souls that we will never stop missing our moms. Even when we are aged and ready to die we will long for them.