Memories

Dearest mum
I only took three items of your clothes to be sold today. Just three. Ten years after you'd gone.
And I weep, I weep into the Christmas card I write, into the celebratory glass of fizz I drink ahead of a party, because you're not here. Years pass, your bags of clothes still sit in my spare room yet I weep because just three things are on sale in a shop. Why can't you slip on your coat, snuggle into your hat and sling on your bag? Because you're gone, quite gone. Cancer took you away from us and no matter how successful or happy we might seem on the outside, on the inside there is a gaping hole because you're no longer at the heart of our family. I miss you so much, especially at this time of year.
Tears over a coat, hat and satchel won't seem to dry. The years don't seem to heal some wounds. I wish you'd come back.