Happy Mother's day Mama Titch

I miss Mama Titch. I want to be able to go up to the hospital and see her there. I want to be able to go to the family home, and when we hop out of the car, she's coming around the corner of the house with that delighted smile she has on her. Today she'd be pampered, more then usual. I have so many memories of her, the hospital ones being replaced thankfully by more cheerful ones. Although the memory of her being wheeled in for surgery and crying is one that won't go away. Mam never cried, or not in front of us. Ever. She was always so strong. To see someone so strong in this tiny bed, waving frailly as she was wheeled away from us is too much to bear at times. I can still smell her open wound, see her scratching herself when she got the shingles. Her eye half closed because she's been tearing it so much, watering because she's so sore from the stupid shingles.

There would be other days, she'd be laughing and joking. Titch sense of humour goes a long way. The Paddies day we dropped up to her looking like extras from a circus. I had dyed my hair green, the kid and the sister K wore paddies day feather boas. In their hair and Mammy2 had a green jersey and pretended like she wasn't with us. Thankfully the nurses knew us all quite well and just laughed. Mam was horrified "Ye didn't come into the hospital looking like that did ye?" She got over the shock and asked us what our plans were for the day. Another Paddies day, we made the mistake of trying to keep up with her and her hot ports. She never really got out much at home being a single parent, so when she came up to us, she went a bit mad. I tried to keep up with her as she knocked them back. A few rounds later I think I was lying on the ground trying to order, whilst she was saying they put too much hot water in the ports? Obviously she was obsorbing the alcohol straight into her bloodstream.

Days when I'd arrive up in my westmeath jersey and we'd listen to the matches on the radio. When we'd lose, which would happen quite often, she would give out hell. I can't believe the same year she passed away, we won the Leinster title for the first time ever. Its so weird. I feel like a shit today. I couldn't face the grave. I just couldn't go down there. Its Mothers day and she's supposed to have flowers? I didn't even do that much for her. Acceptence through denial is how I like to think of things. I stayed in bed until I got a headache and had to get up. I worked and am taking a break now for a while. Work is a great distraction, thank feck for it. I guess I will have to face the grave soon enough but just not yet. I have some of her perfume on and if I close my eyes I can feel her around. Her constant joking and slagging, no matter what life threw at her. She had such a positive outlook on life.

I hope that she's up there, wherever there is at the moment, smoking a joint with Bob Marley or chatting away with her dad or Mam. I hope the lawns are always cut where she is and she doesn't have to worry. I hope she has a gazebo which we had planned to buy for her when she got out of hospital. I hope her garden is always looked after and she doesn't have to worry about her arthritis. She can have that bloody smoothie she longed for in the hospital. I can't look at a smoothie bar now. She used to tease herself, when the nurse brought her for a walk. She'd watch people drinking them.
The same way she'd torture herself when the dinners were being brought past her room. She's ask them what was on the menu. She never could eat though. Not when there was no lower intestine to do anything with it.

Life is shit at times. I miss her...