My mum is dead. There I've said it. I don't say it often, not many people know. Not most of my friends, my neighbours, not people I've known for years. It's not something that comes up in everyday conversation. If you want an instant, uncomfortable silence just mention the words death, dead or dying. It'll happen. Guaranteed. Everyone will suddenly stop talking, check that their laces are tied correctly then remember they've left the oven on. Or something. So I don't mention it, not even now, 5 years on.
About 6 months after she died I bumped into one of my mum's friends in town. They were good friends years ago, before we were all born, but my parents moved out of the area almost 20 years before Mum died and they'd not stayed in touch. Anyway, we got talking, just the usual "hello, how are you?" kind of thing... then she asked how Mum and Dad were. I paused for a second then told her they were fine. They, not "Mum's dead & Dad's in a mess". THEY. I didn't know what to do so I just said fine. I didn't want her to feel uncomfortable either. I'm embarrassingly good at putting my foot in it. I could get a first in talk first, think later, so I know how'd she'd feel if I'd told her. Of course, looking back now, when she eventually did find out she must have thought I was a crazy person! Well I was, I just didn't realise it then.
Over 5 years on and I still haven't dealt with it, it's almost like it never happened, or it happened to someone else. Whenever I phone my dad there's a second when I expect her to answer the phone, ask how I am, how the kids are, make sure I'm alright. But it's only a second, she doesn't answer, Dad does, we have the same conversation I would've had with Mum, but it's not the same and I'm not alright.
I never let myself grieve, I had my kids to look after, her grandchildren, the ones she'd never see grow up. L, my youngest, turned 2 a month after she died, he was too young to remember her, he gets her confused with his "other nanny" who died years before he was born. Sometimes I correct him, mostly though I just leave it. We don't talk about it, any of us. I know it's probably not the best way of coping but it is the least painful.
I'm going to say it's been easy, because it has. Really easy, too easy in fact. Not because I'm heartless but because for me, even now, the only way of dealing with it is not to deal with it. It's not gone, just placed carefully placed between the pages of a book, then hidden behind the dusty old encyclopaedias that nobody ever gets out. It's safe there.
On January 16th this year my sister, E, got married. The following day, January 17th, saw five years pass without my mum. Five years of laughs not heard, five years of hugs not felt. Five years of life not lived.
