Dear You

Dear you,

It was laundry day today. I find chores take my mind off things. I can just let myself go and feel the fabric. One skirt after another, a sock here, a shirt there. It’s bliss – until today. Until I saw you there, hidden at the very bottom of my cold, hard basket. A remnant of a time not so long ago. A life once lived: a shirt you used to wear.

Its cloth was still as soft as the day you picked it up from the coat hanger and begged me to take it home. I still remember the corners of your eyes lifting up in joy. Those beautiful eyes set upon a face that knew no wrong. My god, those beautiful eyes, filled with such love and joy, such pleasure, such energy, such eagerness for life.

I love you. I miss you.

Mum

—

Dear you,

How is life in heaven? Are you enjoying the company? I hope the view is good and nan is being nice.

I bet you can see everything from up there. Who needs to pay for the London Eye when you have all of earth at your fingertips.

You always had a gift for noticing the finer details. Do you remember when we went to visit Aunt Mary and you couldn’t stop looking at her paintings? At the time I was just glad it kept you busy, but now I realise what I missed. Was that the first time you saw the world through another’s eyes? With a mind like that you could have done anything.

What can you see from up there? I bet you can see right inside my mind. Don’t judge me too harshly.

Mum

—

Dear you,

It was awkward the first week. I kept bumping into people in the supermarket and no one knew what to say.

And what do people mean when they tell me they’re sorry for my loss? Why are they apologising? Surely it should be me apologising to them?

I’m sorry for losing you darling. I’m sorry.

Mum

—

Dear you,

When did it all start? When did those thoughts first fertilise in your mind? That forest that lay behind your eyes – the pictures you drew, the colours you could see that the rest of us were blind to. How did such a wonderful mind decay so fast?

I keep telling myself it must have been something at school because then it means that it wasn’t me.

Please speak to me sweetheart. Tell me you’re still there. I need you.

Mum

—

Dear you,

How did you make the decision to die? Was it ever really a decision?

Was I ever part of it?

Mum

—

Dear you,

The food has been sitting cold on the table for over an hour. I knew what your favourites. You hated eating apples in full; you preferred the bite-sized chunks, cut into freshness by my hand. The breadsticks were another favourite; I think you enjoyed the crunch against your molars as your jaw bounced up and down. That’s what made you so special – your senses were more attuned than everyone else’s. I swear you could always tell when something was wrong. You were so good at reading everyone. You picked up on things that no twelve year old would have noticed.

The apples are getting brown now.

Mum

—

Dear you,

Was it painful? What was the last thing on your mind?

I know it wasn’t me. I’m sorry for the argument we had. I’m sorry I pretended not to you see your tears. I’m sorry I didn’t follow you up the stairs when you banged the door and hid your face.

I’m sorry for being a bad mother.

Mum

—

Dear you,

You called the other day. A whisper in the breeze. The same swing where you hurt your knee. Do you remember? You refused to let the tears slide down your red cheeks, clawing them away with the back of your hands.

You were always so strong, so tough. That glowing face, those piercing eyes. How much were you hiding behind that smile?

Mum

—

Dear you,

I don’t know how it’s happened. No one seems to have noticed. Bill still puts his bins out on Thursdays. Marie still cycles to work every morning. The sun comes out and washes the sky with its same glow.

How can people not know? How do they not look up at the sky and shout out your name? A beautiful life has been taken from them and yet the world go on. The laws of nature don’t mourn. The stars don’t bow in silence.

What was the point of it all?

Mum

—

Dear you,

I think I’m going crazy.

Mum

—

Dear you,

My god I miss you.

Your touch. Your smell. Your soft cheek against my shoulder. What would I give for just a second in your presence.

I went into your room today. I was there at the scene of the crime. I lay on the carpet and placed my head against your warm body. I lay there and I slept. It was the most peace I’ve had since you left.

I love you.

Mum

—

Dear you,

How much longer do I wait? It’s already been so long.

I was never as strong as you. How could I be, after everything you went through.

Mum

—

Dear you,

I know you’re counting down the days and wondering where I am. I know, I know. I always did doddle.

Everything’s packed. I closed the bank account yesterday. The laundry’s been done and I cleaned the entire house – you wouldn’t believe the amount of rubbish I found behind the radiators. Top to bottom. Everything’s in its place now. Everything but me.

Tell nan I’m on my way.

Mum