Well last week I wrote a cryptic post about how I hate change and people moving away.
And this Saturday my mum is getting married.
It is her that I’m going to miss.
I am so happy that my mum has found love again and someone to trust and a lovely man to keep her company and play cards with.
I’m so happy for her.
I’m so sad for me that her new marriage also means that she is moving to the other side of the country.
My parents separated just before my first son was born, after 32 years of marriage.
She used to come and visit us every day then. Sometimes twice a day. Just to see him and hold him and be happy.
She would take me to the theatre and the movies and we would meet for coffee at least once a week.
We having been going to the football together for as long as I can remember. Maybe even longer than that.
We worked together sometimes in the same school and she would pop in and wave while I was teaching.
My husband and 2 boys and I lived in her family home when father became too unwell to live there anymore because she couldn’t bare to sell her dad’s house while he was still alive.
I behaved awfully towards my mum as a teenager.
She didn’t like the boys I went out with. (Or probably the fact that it was more than one at a time.)
I rolled my eyes at her so often that I ended up *needing glasses in my 20’s.
*The glasses may have been more to do with vision issues unrelated to the eye rolling but who can tell for sure.
But when I became a mum we became best friends. The timing was perfect. I needed her support, advice and company at a time when she needed a new focus in her life too.
And on Saturday it’s my job to zip up her dress and walk with her to the wedding and sign the marriage certificate.
I’ll also be the one crying behind the camera taking photos and desperately trying to stay busy.
And then I’ll be the one coming home and having a medium to moderate breakdown at the thought of change and how I’m sooooo happy for my mum.
And more than just a little bit sad for me.