Today I made Mum’s Christmas shortbread, a tradition now. Our Christmas’ would not be complete without it. Even two years ago as I struggled in pain recovering from the first of two operations after being diagnosed with “The Cancer” it was made. Two lovely friends helped, I started it and instructed them then went to the couch and listened to them laughing. Today of all days it was an appropriate task. The batch I made today will be our one for Christmas Day. On this day, the 39th anniversary of her death I made her shortbread so she is still a part of our Christmas.
Where did 39 years go? My brother’s post broke my heart, ‘Not sure where those 39 years have gone. Still waiting for mum to come home I know its never going to happen but I’m sure this little one was sent as a beautiful replacement’. We have noticed in the last month or so just how much like our mum his daughter is looking – there is a photo of mum as a toddler and it is glorious how alike they are.
Still today after 39 years I think of the mother we had and the love she had for us and we still have for her.
“The Cancer” stole her from us and as I type I am in tears knowing her heart would break at having to leave us.
I fucking hate cancer.