more than sorry

There is nothing like the simple word, "sorry." My sister said that to me today. After months of not talking, we are now becoming a family again.

The loss of our mum was huge. Massive. Too much for any of us to handle really. We tried to do it together, hold each others hands. Although, we all let go. {My brother is still letting go. I wish I could grab his hand and stop him from drinking. I have hope one day he will stop himself}.

It is time to accept the fact we are all very different people. Raised by the same mother, and all three of us are chalk and cheese. In our own ways we were trying to help each other, and in turn we were doing more harm than good. We all had a different relationship with mum. I am not sure if she planned it that way, or if it was because we are so different in our personalities and our ways.

I am the big talker, the one that learnt to never have a secret. Mum knew everything. I mean every single thing, to the true meaning of the word; everything. My sister is the independent one. The person that wanted to live her life in her way. Although the strong one was also the one that became weak at times. She had a very different relationship with mum. I don't even know how to explain it. I was jealous at times, and I know that she too was jealous of the relationship I had with mum. My brother was the quiet achiever. Never really going to go far in life, although happy to stand by mums's side, and have her guidance. I completely understand why he did that. I guess we all did that in our own way. We all stood there. Right there with her. 

There are ways to keep breathing, and there are ways to allow those tears to fall when they need to. I run. That is my thing. I also come here, and write in my own way, and share everyday feelings. This is where I can talk to her, and tell her everything. Now, with a little hope, we might all be that little family that can stick together, just like she asked me to make sure would always happen if something ever happened to her.

Whoever thought the simple word would allow us to stand right here again. Right here together, in our own way; with mum holding each of our hands.

I too am sorry. 

*You know I could go on about my mum forever. Tell you everything that I knew and things I still discover today. I have no doubt, I will share more about my beautiful mum.