The past few months in the life of Louise have been pretty intense. It has been so intense that I just referred to myself in the third person.
And over the past few months, there have been so many things that I wish I could tell my mum. So many things.
I’ve also realised that not all my friends knew about my family situation. I thought all the ones that needed to know, knew. Apparently, I was wrong. So for those of you who don’t know; my mum died in January 2010. My relationship with my dad is near to none. That’s why I have ‘Hug Louise Days’.
The things I’ve wanted to tell my mum have ranged from the best news in the world to being diagnosed with High Brain Pressure. I’ve wanted to show her the beautiful Aberystwyth sunsets, I wanted her at my baptism…
But I keep myself busy. I don’t let myself dwell on the fact she’s not here. But I should, because I haven’t grieved. I so want to grieve.
Every day I miss her. Every day there is something I wish I could tell her. That I could just pick up the phone, give her a text or a quick phone call. Sometimes, I still think that she could just rock up at my door and surround me in motherly love. The motherly love that I’ve never had, but the motherly love that I give to my sisters and to my friends.
I never really knew my mum, being in the care system will do that to you. People try and fill in the gaps but they’re not my memories. They’re not my experiences. I can’t remember the sound of her voice, I can’t picture her when I close my eyes. I don’t know how she smelled, her favourite colour. I can’t remember.
I want to remember, I need to remember.
Did you know that I am expected to be a bad mother? That when I have kids, social services are going to be checking up on me? They’re going to be checking up on me because they think that I won’t be able to cope, that mental illness will get the better of me like it did my mum. But you see, because I didn’t have a relationship with my mum I am going to do everything in my power to keep my kids close. I will love them will everything I have; just like I know my mum loved me and my sisters.
I want my mum to be proud of me. In everything I do. When I perform, I cry every opening night because I want her there. When I was in my production of Wuthering Heights, I cried over two assistant directors and my director because I wanted mum. I had to redo my makeup five times. When I’m with my sisters, I just want to tell mum. I want to tell her how awesome they are, how much they’ve grown up.
I miss her, and I will continue to miss her. The only hope I have is that I’ll see her again one day in heaven. She’s with Jesus now.