Tuesday.. the day I'll be going to one of my closest friend's mum's funeral. She passed away last Monday and it still hasn't really sunk in. She took me in for christmas when my parents went to australia and made me feel like part of the family, gave me gifts so that I'd feel included and hugs so that I felt loved.
A lovely, kind and generous woman who is already sorely missed. Her daughter is only 22, too young to lose one's mother..
Then, in contrast to this wonderful woman's life, cut short by cancer is the grotesquely over publicised downfall of a racist reality tv star. However much my friend tried to get away from the reminder that her mum was seriously ill, clues were emblazoned across all newspapers, tv channels and magazines. The impersonality of vicarious grief..
I want to tell her I know how destabilising it is to your very core to lose your mother. How I imagine she must feel like she's lost her anchor but I don't know how to reach out and I'm scared I'll make my usual verbal faux pas and use comfort like a blunt weapon.
I want her to know that I imagined it was my mother and how the imagined pain almost crushed my heart..
I know that however accurately imagined, it'll never rival what she feels but I just want her to know I'm willing to take some of the pain for her.
