I will miss you, Mum.

It has been three weeks since my mum, Cheryl, died. I have up and down days; today isn’t a good one. I need to let this grief out productively.
My mum was fantastic, funny, intelligent, chaotic, a teacher, a mother and a fun lover. I remember often that she would cheer my siblings and me up on a whim. I take after her a lot in that regard. While I was her carer for her last years, I used to do a funny dance or just be weird so she would smile.
I could talk about her as a young lad, but that is burry in my mind’s eye. I remember her being there while I was sick, sad and happy. Mum loved my brother, sisters, and me so much.
I miss her being there while I slept. The noise from the television not being there is the worst, and not waking up to her calling me to help her with everything. Her not being there for me to wiggle her toe, so she knew she wasn’t alone.
While I potted around doing my tasks, my mum would be there knitting for people experiencing homelessness. She said, ‘I do this not to sell but to make sure someone can feel comfort from my work.’
My mum was a massive fan of my writing; she used to encourage me to write something new. I write fantasy, and she hated the genre but loved my writing. My next book will, of course, I will be dedicated to her.
Wherever I go, I am glad she raised me to be a good man.

I miss her so much.