But when she first broke the news on Mothers Day, I was confronted with one of life's fears, one that I haven't really even articulated fully in my head, too horrible is the thought: losing a parent. Now, our family is pretty small, minute even. No dad around (he nicely left before I was born), no siblings, my grandmother died in 2004 and my mother has no siblings either! Other members are scattered around the globe, mainly in California I believe. So this is pretty major for me- I keep thinking about everything she knows about me, she really is the only person on this earth who knows me, really. And being just a mother and daughter we're obviously close. So strange thoughts enter my head- who would I talk to about x,y,z? What about our house in France, that my mother has finally turned into a beautiful home after years of saving and improvements? Who else would I speak French to? Or talk about past memories and events and our heritage? I would feel, horribly and utterly, alone.
When people are no longer here in the flesh, we're only left with memories and objects (I am not a religious person). Today I wore one of my mum's old rings for luck, it's silver with a round amber stone. Looking through my box of trinkets, I have a coral necklace of my grandmother's that used to smell like her (Ellnet hairspray, Giorgio perfume). Just some objects which have come to represent a whole person, who they were, where they came from, what they did, which is an immense amount of things. I find it quite scary, that's all that's left behind along with memories, which are by nature intangible and fragile.
Because I'm not ready yet. My mum is 63, I am 24. I want any children I have to have a grandmother, someone who can tell them where they came from on this side of the family, places I've not been to.
Okay, no more gloomy posts.