Some things you want to believe will never happen to you. Like losing your mother.

It is something that I’ve come to realise never comes easy. No matter how old you are, no matter how aware you are, that it is imminent, it is something that you can never prepare yourself for. You can accept it, you do, because that’s the only way forward.. Because there is no other option. You go on, trying to move forward… But every now and again, it hits you. And hits you hard. You don’t know how to react. Sometimes it’s in the privacy of your home, sometimes, it’s when you least expect it, while walking down a busy street or in the middle of a meeting at work, where bursting into tears is not an option, even though that’s all you want to do. Every now and again you want to tell her something, share a joke, or ask her something only to remember that you can’t do that anymore.

We knew my mother would be taken from us soon, we knew that her condition came with a very grim prognosis. But when it happens, it’s still difficult to come to terms with. Nothing prepares you for it. So soon, such a young age. 60 is no age to be taken away. Of course, I would say the same for any age, but still.. Back home, right after she passed away, some of her school friends came visiting and I can’t tell you how that killed me internally, when I saw their young healthy faces.. Just reminded me of what my mother had been robbed off by a horrible rare disease. Just makes you so mad at fate. Why, why, why did she have to get this condition? But that’s life isn’t it? Nothing fair about it.

Death brings you face to face with reality, ugly reality sometimes, truly wonderful reality at other times. My mother’s passing, for me, showed me how much she was loved. Of course she was special to me, but then she was my mother, but when I saw the outpouring of grief and love from those around us, from those whose lives she had touched, that was when I saw how loved she was by family and friends. Her attitude, her magnanimity, her positivity (that deserves a post of its own) will stay with us forever.

Almost a month after her passing, I find myself trying to live life the way she would have wanted me to. To be brave, to accept what life deals us with, with a smile and a refusal to give into despondency.

That for me, is her legacy, that is what I want to remember her as, her smiling face, her refusal to drown in self pity, her strength is the face of her condition.