I will come clean here
The only down side to my recent trip to New York was arriving back home and realising that I couldn't ring mum and tell her all about it.
We said at her funeral that we all talked to her about many different matters and I think this is what I am missing most, its those silly moments that we used to laugh about so much together that provide me with the tearful sessions. However, I am working my way down the poem - I smile that she has lived; I am opening my eyes to see all that she has left; with my garden starting to grow again that is now especially evident. The bulbs that we ordered together and planted up are now coming out. A superficial level of seeing what she left, but no less poignant. I need to work on being full of the love that we shared, that is a difficult mountain to climb and I'm not there yet.