Wish You Were Here

It's the landmark days that are the hardest; birthdays, anniversaries, weddings. Landmark moments are hard too, getting a new job, a project going really well or not, even just a new haircut; those are the times that everything within me cries out to pick up the phone, to tell her the news. But I can't.

This day is maybe the hardest of them all. Mothers' Day. A day when "mothers" are rubbed in your face, a day when you can't go anywhere without happy families all around you. A day when you can't forget you don't have a mother to celebrate anymore.

It's not that I'm against other people celebrating the amazing women in their lives, in fact quite the contrary, it makes me angry to see people NOT lavishing their love on their mums and grannies. But, I'm never quite sure what to do with myself on this day.

This year, I've decided to channel my mass of emotions into something more positive (well at least to try to) so here is an "ode" to my beautiful mum.

Wish You Were Here

I'm writing you a postcard,

reporting on my travels,

I'm calling with the latest news -

my triumphs and my trials.

The message that I'm leaving

is perpetually the same:

wish you were here to see this,

wish I could hear you speak my name.

I miss finding you in the kitchen

surrounded by Michael Ball -

his voice singing on the radio,

his face smiling on the wall.

I miss stealing a special cuddle,

the ones only you could give.

I wish you hadn't had to leave,

I wish you still could live.

I wish that you could see me now

me and this gang of mine

I know that you would love them

and you'd see I'm doing fine.

I wish that we could get excited

about all the things that lie ahead.

I miss coming home to tell my stories

As I couried in beside you in your bed.

I long to hear your opinion,

to have you set me straight,

to help me see the pitfalls

before I've jumped and it's too late.

I wish that you could criticise

and put my feet on the right path,

I even long to see that face

You always made when you heard me laugh.

But you're gone and that time is over,

those things we'll never do again -

no more cuddles or silly giggles,

there's no going back to how it was then.

I hold on tight to those memories

and hope to never let them go.

With every year I'll miss you

and hope that you would know

That I'm writing you a postcard,

reporting on my travels,

I'm calling with the latest news -

my triumphs and my trials.

The message that I'm leaving

is perpetually the same:

wish you were here to see this,

wish I could hear you speak my name.