A Letter to My Mum – 2 years gone, today.

Dear Mum,

I wonder if you are still here. After you died I felt your presence so strongly, every decision I made, I felt like I had talked it through with you. Recently I’ve felt more distant.

We’ve been in Dubai nearly a year, and I think the geographical distance has enhanced the psychological distance. Moving here was my way of removing myself from the heat ache I felt in our hometown. Everything reminded me of you and it hurt. I thought dubai was a happy medium, you lived here once and when I first arrived, I enjoyed seeking out the streets you lived in, or researching the landmarks that still exist that you would have visited. The sad thing is though, nothing in Dubai reminds me of you, and I’m starting to realise how those memories and those aches kept us connected.

You more than anyone know what I’m like. Distraction is key. I’ve always kept myself so busy and I still don’t know how to stop. You would recognise when I was burning out and you would have this unbelievable way of telling me everything was going to work out just fine, and I would believe you, and suddenly I could breathe again. Over here, the calmness of it all and the fact that I’m away from all my familiarity has meant that I’ve become more aware of the gaping hole that you left behind.

The strange thing I’ve found about grief is that when you’re in the depths of it, when you’re completely immersed in the dreadfulness of the situation, at least your mind is occupied. 2 years on, and yes I’m living with it, but the dull empty ache is even more apparent and continues to grow.

2 years, everyone told me, is how long it takes for you to start feeling like you can move on. I get what they mean, yes, my days are more normal, I don’t cry as much and I can go to work and get through most of my day without wanting to run home to hide in my bed. But the overall feeling that I get from reaching the 2 year mark is sadness. How has it been 2 years since I last saw you.

2 years on and I still need your advice. Alex’s contract is up soon, so what’s next? Should we extend and stay another year? Should we seek out a new adventure? Should we head home, and be with family and friends?

We have so many big decisions coming up and I’m entirely overwhelmed with our options. I like to think that you’re reading my mind as I write this and you’re going to send me signs. I’ll be watching out for them.

2 years mum. I miss you. The kids miss you. Scarlett’s still asking for new nanny Kim shoes. Leo has come on so much. You’d be so proud of him, he’s the easy kid now! Scarlett’s a proper little diva, you’d know exactly how to deal with her but I haven’t a clue so we’re just riding this phase out.

Writing to you has made me feel that closeness to you that I haven’t felt in a while. Maybe I should do it more often. You would be cringing and telling me to get on with my life, but without you as my driving force, it’s not that easy.

I love you. Keep in touch,somehow. Give dad a hug from us all.

Cara xx