“I’m moving away Mum. That’s what I came to tell you. I’m selling the house and moving to a lovely little Village to live by the beach.
I know you love this City. You’ve live here all your life but I don’t want to live my whole life two streets away from where I was born. Besides, there’s no beach here and you know I’ve always wanted to live by the beach.
I’ve found a house, only five minutes walk from the sea front. You can smell the ocean when you open the windows and hear the sea gulls. If you listen carefully you can hear the sounds of the pebbles moving across each other as the sea ebbs and flows. It’s wonderful. I’m even looking forward to the winter when the sea is wild. The awesome force of nature. A bit like you at times.
Do you remember when my daughter was born? Of course you do, silly question. I phoned you in the morning to tell you that you had a new granddaughter and you turned up at the hospital within the hour. It didn’t matter that it was outside of visiting hours or that the hospital staff said no visitors. You weren’t leaving until you saw us.
Anyway Mum, I’m reminiscing when I really wanted to talk about the move. I’ve been dreading telling you because I know you don’t understand why someone doesn’t love the city as much as you do. Village life maybe quiet, but it’s what I want.
After weeks of avoiding the subject I’ve finally plucked up the courage to tell you, that’s why I came around.
But I never got to tell you did I mum?
I used to let myself in and call to you and you’d be there in the kitchen ready to put the kettle on. I’ll never forget letting myself in that day and calling your name. Silence. Stomach churning I pushed open your bedroom door and there you were still in bed asleep. Only this time your sleep was eternal.
Standing here today in the garden or remembrance looking at the glorious rose planted in memory of you, I’m telling you all the things I never got to say on that awful day in July. I live by the beach now like I said I was going to and you’ve moved on too.
You know I’ve always believed there is so much more that this physical existence and I truly believe that you’ve gone to the next level, which is infinitely better than this one. I can’t visit you anymore, but you’re only in the next room.
Not everyone believes in the afterlife in the same way as I do, but if they only follow the science, they’ll know that energy cannot be destroyed, it simply takes another form.
We are all made from star dust.
Mum, you are all that was; all that is; and all that ever will be.
I’ll see you again one day.”
I know you love this City. You’ve live here all your life but I don’t want to live my whole life two streets away from where I was born. Besides, there’s no beach here and you know I’ve always wanted to live by the beach.
I’ve found a house, only five minutes walk from the sea front. You can smell the ocean when you open the windows and hear the sea gulls. If you listen carefully you can hear the sounds of the pebbles moving across each other as the sea ebbs and flows. It’s wonderful. I’m even looking forward to the winter when the sea is wild. The awesome force of nature. A bit like you at times.
Do you remember when my daughter was born? Of course you do, silly question. I phoned you in the morning to tell you that you had a new granddaughter and you turned up at the hospital within the hour. It didn’t matter that it was outside of visiting hours or that the hospital staff said no visitors. You weren’t leaving until you saw us.
Anyway Mum, I’m reminiscing when I really wanted to talk about the move. I’ve been dreading telling you because I know you don’t understand why someone doesn’t love the city as much as you do. Village life maybe quiet, but it’s what I want.
After weeks of avoiding the subject I’ve finally plucked up the courage to tell you, that’s why I came around.
But I never got to tell you did I mum?
I used to let myself in and call to you and you’d be there in the kitchen ready to put the kettle on. I’ll never forget letting myself in that day and calling your name. Silence. Stomach churning I pushed open your bedroom door and there you were still in bed asleep. Only this time your sleep was eternal.
Standing here today in the garden or remembrance looking at the glorious rose planted in memory of you, I’m telling you all the things I never got to say on that awful day in July. I live by the beach now like I said I was going to and you’ve moved on too.
You know I’ve always believed there is so much more that this physical existence and I truly believe that you’ve gone to the next level, which is infinitely better than this one. I can’t visit you anymore, but you’re only in the next room.
Not everyone believes in the afterlife in the same way as I do, but if they only follow the science, they’ll know that energy cannot be destroyed, it simply takes another form.
We are all made from star dust.
Mum, you are all that was; all that is; and all that ever will be.
I’ll see you again one day.”
