Heartache

by lovemagic

Posted to Stories on 2001-12-10 13:07:00

Last night, I sat and grieved. I have had eighteen months of grieving, since my mother died. But I have not grieved for myself. I realised that it is the hardest thing in the world, to be a mum, when you haven’t got one.
My friend, who had been having trouble with her boyfriend and her mum, spoke to me for hours yesterday…during a time when I had my precious time to myself. She spoke of how her mum is finally going to support her, her boyfriend finally gave her sex and etcetera, rah de rah. I told her I thought that was great. Meanwhile, the housework builds up, my children are running riot and Im hurting hurting hurting.
I can’t remember the last time someone threw their arms around me, and said, Hey you are doing great…I love you. The last person to do that was my mother. In the last eighteen months I have come really far. My children were aged three and two when my mother died. I have a huge house and garden to maintain, multitudes of friends who love my words of wisdom, and two children whom I love dearly…but.
But….with tears stinging my eyes, my heart heavy with sorrow for myself…I am at the end of a long long long journey. I have been to hell and back several times over.

The but is….I don’t know if I can go on. My heart broke when my mum died…..no emotional support. I nursed my mother’s mother through her death from cancer, I have been the guru and light bearer to my friends, I have given given given…………..I just can’t do this alone anymore.
My mother was magic…as I am too.
If anyone reading this is a mother…then you know..how valuable mothers advice, love, support is. When you are at you wits end, you can ring mum, “mum they are driving me crazy…what can I do…what did you do…HELP I NEED A CUDDLE!!!!!!”
I sat at 9.30pm last night on the end of my daughters bed last night, sobbing, I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and she wanted a story. I sobbed and sobbed. I had just finished explaining to her that sometimes mummy finds things too hard. Like her behaviour. Was I asking too much, for my daughter to stop, and just show me some love for a change?
As I sobbed…my snobby, but wonderful, daughter huffed, glared at me and wriggled under the covers.
yes< I guess I was asking too much from a five year old.
at ten she got her story. Storytime is magic.
I always got a story.

MUM, if you are over my shoulder reading this….I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…that I couldn’t be there for you, when you grieved….but mum…you died before your mum…I gave your mum love, your siblings support….when I had grown up…with my own family. This is the hardest thing, I have ever been through. And FUCK!!!! Am I doing alright?
MUM!!!! AM I ALRIGHT??? MUM!!!!!! will I ever feel warm arms around me again? MUM!!! MUM!!! Three days before you died..you said, “mandy Will you be ok If I go?” I said…”yes and no mum…but Yes…..I will be ok”
AM I OK?????? AM I??????
oh mum………….I need love too.

My mum was my soulmate.

Fuck…I can’t even go to your house….and sit in your garden.

Heres a prayer for me……Mandy Fly Me

Please, send me someone, to help me with my broken heart
Please.
No one has held me. Please.