Part Eight.

Well I’m sure you’ll all agree it’s been a minute since I last wrote anything for you all to read.

Truth is I don’t actually think I’ve had a minute to myself for over a month but I’ve been busy making memories, living & enjoying life all whilst remembering mam in doing so.

As always there’s been a number of firsts. My first trip abroad, followed by my first girls trip abroad in over two years.

Our first trip to Glasgow without mam for Francesca to say “Yes to the dress” and our first Mother’s Day without having mam here to share it with.

March has been a bit much when you look at it like that. . All be it I’ve had fun.😅

So, I’m not sure if other people who have lost parents feel the same & this may be a particularly obscure thought or feeling for some, but personally I find there’s something so very special about the sky.

Looking at it gives me a sense of feeling closer to my mother.

Whether it be sat on a plane at the window seat admiring the clouds, sitting in a hot tub admiring the stars, or driving to work watching the burnt orange sunrise climb the horizon.. it fills me with some sort of peace & joy.

Sometimes it brings me to tears, even now whilst typing this.. but I still look up. I’ll never stop looking up.

Maybe I’m looking for answers. I’m not sure? Maybe one day I’ll find them, maybe I won’t. Who knows …

Anyways, today’s Good Friday & as far as Fridays off work go this has been a good one.

Today I’ve visited our family caravan, I’ve not been here since October.

The last time we all came here, we came as a family.

Driving up toward the caravan park I started to become really angst, I think the emotion of remembering our last visit here just flooded my body with fear, it overwhelmed me.

I walked in through the doors & was greeted by a picture frame that said

“The story of us”.

Bless my dad.

He must’ve bought it recently. He’s filled the caravan with photographs of us as a family, him & my mother and my mother & Max.

I understand why this place is so precious to him. It’s his safe haven, it’s where he feels closest to my mam.

Not that the caravan needed filling, it’s full of mam. Every nook & cranny just screams Tracy Wall. The coffee choice, the drinks cabinet, the glasses, the ornaments all just scream MAM.

It screams so hard that it’s hard to ignore the beauty of it, my mams taste is not everyones cup of tea, but it’s mine. She was mine. If the walls here could talk they would have her voice.

I walked around today looking, maybe seeing the caravan & all of its contents properly for the first time EVER, because I wanted to find bits of her...

The more I looked, the more I found, and what I found flooded my eyes with tears so much that it pulled me to the floor.

I don’t think I’ve ever cried that hard, infact I howled. The poor neighbours. 🙈

If I told you what made me react like that it would sound ridiculous to say aloud, but here it is…..

I cried because I saw her handwriting.

She had written a note, it had my name on it.

My mam was old fashioned in the sense that she loved to write everything down, she always had a diary & she always wrote about her day, something I’ve picked up over the years.

What struck me about this note was that she must’ve been practicing what to say for my Chilo bear that I had as a gift for Christmas. (Part 7 if you’ve not read it yet.)

I never thought my mothers handwriting would make me cry, because again when you say that aloud it sounds ridiculous, but again, it did.

It made me cry harder & louder than I think I ever have, it completely took my breath away.

I guess thinking about it now, I always took for granted that kind of thing before. It’s been so long since I saw her handwriting, something she will never get to do again.

She will never be able to write my name, nor will she ever pick up a pen again, it’s as simple as that.

Think it’s safe to say I’m saving that note, it’s a precious one.

Standing where she stood, admiring the view of the trees & the sky with a gin & tonic on her caravan decking, listening to the birds is the only music I need.

However, sitting here & taking it all in it feels unsettling in a way.

Unsettling because I know how much she would’ve loved this & how much she would’ve enjoyed it here with me.

We didn’t get to make many memories here before she passed away, she really hoped we would’ve had years here.

However we can’t dwell on that because the memories we did make here, I treasure.

Right now I’m sat here, Max cwtched into my legs, typing into my phone, blowing my nose, wiping my tears but looking up every now & again.

Looking up to remind myself of my mother, remind myself how lucky I am to be able to sit where she sat & make new memories in a place that she left behind for us.

Once I’ve finished writing I’m going to put my phone down & take it all in.

In a short few weeks I’ll have moved to sunnier climates, & I wont be visiting here anymore.

Max also won’t be coming with me but I’m sure that Mam will.

I’m pretty sure she will give me a sign to tell me she’s there too, well at least I hope she does.

My gut instinct is telling me this will be the best life decision I’ll ever make, that’s second to making the decision to give my all to my mam.

My life pull is taking me there, exactly like it pulled me through our most challenging days. I’m nervous & excited, I have no doubts I’ll cry but for now I have 18 working days left in the UK.

30 days of non stop celebrations with my family & best friends .. MADNESS 🤯

So Dubai, I think I’m ready for you, I hope you’re ready for me… ✈️