I lost my mum on the 11th August. She'd been in hospital because of side effects of her treatment she was having for bladder cancer. But everybody, including her, expected to get over it. She even asked me to clean the house ready for when she came home. I lived with her you see. Then they discovered a blockage in one of her intestines, tried to have a closer look, and her blood pressure went right down to a point they couldn't get it up again and she died. She was 82, but she didn't act like an average 82 year old. She was so full of life, and had such a young way of looking at life, if you know what I mean. And we were so close. She was my best friend as well as mum. The first few days after, as much as I can remember them, I used to look at older people and say to myself, why are you alive and mums dead. I lost weight, was quite ill for a couple of weeks. The unreality of it all. I do have brothers and sisters who are there for me as much as possible, but they didn't have the relationship with mum quite as I did, 'cos I lived with her. I'm coping a bit better now, though the unreality is still with me to a certain extent. Some days worse than others. Today's one of the worse days. I've been crying etc. I'm still living in the house we lived in together. For the time being anyway. It just seems so empty without her. I'm scared of Christmas. I can't let myself think about it yet. This is my first post, though I have been reading others posts for a while, which I find has helped me a little.
