A little piece of you

This is my mum and me, in the 80's. She had such a beautiful smile. She was only a couple of years younger than I am now in this picture, and I hope that I take after her, in the smile stakes anyway! I miss her every day. I've been thinking about her today, and found a piece of my writing from a few years ago that I had stored on my laptop which I thought I'd share with you.

"When somebody dies, they take a piece of you with them. It is as if everyone that touches your life leaves an imprint on your soul, something that’s uniquely them, so that when they’re gone you will always remember them, and in some small way the part of themselves they left with you can help to fill the hole. So maybe it’s a straight swap; a little piece of you for a little piece of me.

At times, the hole they leave you with can seem so big that you feel like you’re drowning in it; like you’ll never be able to pull yourself out of the depths. Other times, when your heart feels full to bursting with the joys of spring, the hole shrinks ever so slightly, and everything looks brighter. It is impossible to predict when these moments will arise, so they can take you by surprise, make you catch your breath and remember you’re alive. Those who are not here would want us to feel that way. They would want the people they love to feel as much as possible, for feeling makes you human. Feeling gives you heart, gives you soul, gives you hope.

Fear has been the reason for bottling up my emotions. Fear of loss, fear of rejection, fear of consequence. My shoulders hunch, my back aches, my head sits heavy on my poor, sore neck, and all for what? I do let things out - sometimes more vigorously than I’d like – but when I do, maybe I don’t let it go far enough. Occasionally I feel like I have nothing else to give, drained but slightly exhilarated, but more often than not I don’t reach the freshly-deflated-balloon stage; consciousness takes over and I stop myself, kid myself that I’m ‘pulling myself together’ and being strong by holding back. It is true however, that strength comes from truly feeling your emotions, owning them, and not repressing anything. Regardless of whether I am worried that I’ll become a snivelling, sobbing mess or not, it is safe to say that I am no different to anyone else, and if I feel like crying, or jumping for joy, or shouting, I should. Not at every opportunity, but certainly when it feels like I’ll burst if I don’t. You only need to look at how great you feel afterwards to realise that it’s necessary in life to let loose and let things go."

I also found this brilliant picture of my uncle Robert; I like to think that the two of them are up there somewhere, having coffee and talking about anything and everything. Here he is on stage as a priest in 'Romeo and Juliet', with a couple of famous faces!

(For the record, I LOVE Sean Bean..!)

What makes your heart skip? I'd love to know.