No Crying Allowed

It was the oddest thing knowing I would never see her again. Its hard to describe, hard to explain. I`m certain if you have a good Mom, her passing must be a truly awful grief. Such a harrowing loss. My grief was different, there was undeniably a sense of relief, it grew with each day that passed. It felt as if I had dropped her off somewhere and now was continuing my journey without her and with each day the distance between us widened and with each day I felt a little safer. Yes actually that is exactly it. I felt safer now. Like my very being was heaving a huge sigh of relief. I felt a certain sadness too, like it was the end of en era, the end of her Reign for sure. I felt sad my children now had not one Grand Parent left, I also felt glad they would never grow to experience her abusive ways.

I was in shock too, it was such a life changing experience, like the door to the cage was now open, and yet I still sat on the perch, not knowing how to be free, not knowing how to be Me. Her words that day came back to me, I think they were the last words she ever said to me....I don`t know who I am....neither did I, which was strangely enough the very same flippant reply I gave her that day, who knew how prophetic that would be. That Christmas day... when I was so full of fear and anxiety that I would pay some terrible price because I had not softened to her and invited her over, that I was daring to get on with Christmas with my own little family, my stomach knotted, on edge every moment because I was finally trying to be strong and yet at the same time I was still so afraid. I, like my Father, was in many ways nothing more than an extension of her. I don`t think there had been a waking hour that had passed when I had not thought of her in some context.....dread, fear, confusion, anger, hate, longing, needing, hoping... I almost did not know what to do with myself. Freedom to live my life without being in her looming shadow was going to take some getting used to. So I busied myself with organising her Funeral. I had her dressed in warm clothes and a necklace her older Brother had bought her many years ago.
 I thought long and hard about what to write for her eulogy. I set my hurt and feelings aside and tried to compose something that was light and did not hint at her dark side, I tried to write something that acknowledged how hard her childhood had been but remembered the comfort her siblings provided.

Her younger brother was the only one to attend her funeral, my Aunt Iris did not come. Her Brothers wife told me `it was quite lovely what was said...it was the nicest thing I have ever heard read at a funeral` she commented. I was glad. With hindsight I guess it was a little Catherine Cookson, with my mother written about in a kinder light than she deserved and perhaps I myself as the silent, unmentioned heroine, for finding it in my heart to play along with one last charade. I watched closely as she trundled off into the crematorium and the curtains closed around her....yes, that was it, she was gone. Her funeral was on the 3rd May 2007, the same day Madeline McCann went missing, I will always remember that. 
 I did not shed a tear at her funeral, though there was a certain sadness, there did not seem to be anything to weep about. And my Inner Child whispered..........and crying`s not allowed anyway......