We try in life. We try to do a lot of things. Some things we succeed at and other things we do not succeed at. I don't like to say fail. Cause for me that would mean I failed my mum. And for the past four years I have felt that. Today changed me.
When we clean out things it is like we are cleaning out ourselves. It is something I do not really enjoy at the time, but once it is done it feels somewhat liberating. I found things. I found things to throw away, and I found things to hold close to my heart. I found a piece of paper my mum received 8 days before she passed away.
My mum hated giving blood, and I mean hate in terms of the opposite emotion of love. When mum was sick, I dragged her kicking and screaming to the doctor, who ordered a blood test. (This is a whole other story, but this part always makes me cry, as it was time wasted, in which a doctor is negligent in his actions). Mum and I went to the pathology clinic together. Where she was awarded a special bravery award.
She was proud. {And I was proud of her too}.
Having this memory, and her certificate, reminds me that I did not fail my mum. I was there with her every step of the way. I tried. I tried really hard to keep her here.
That is all we can do in life, is try. Sometimes we will succeed, and other times we won't. There is no such thing as failing when you try.
I miss my my mum. And I no longer feel I failed her. I tried, and she tried. We tried together.
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