Today marks the first anniversary of my beloved mum passing away. In some ways, it seems as though just yesterday we talked on the phone, I can hear her voice, feel the love spread over me like a warm blanket when I'm cold and alone.
Whenever I thought about what I'd do to commemorate the day, I always imagined driving up to the little country cemetery where both of my parents and also my dad's parents and great-grandparents are buried. I could see myself and my sister laying roses on their graves, a ritual of love and remembrance...
But in life, things don't always go as planned. My sister is at a doctor's appt. (her son drove her since I couldn't) and I am home sick with some weird flu germ. Just typing this blog post is about wearing me out. To say I feel useless is an understatement. I hate not keeping promises.
Near the bottom of their gravestone, reads the inscription: Gone But Not Forgotten.
I may not be there in person to lay roses at their graves today, but I think they know we won't forget them, no matter what else happens in our lives.
Blessings to those we've all loved and lost, may they rest in peace.