Nine months

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There’s a name for a fear of time, chronophobia. Since we lost you its not that I fear time, its more of a loathing of time passing. I loathe that each minute takes me another 60 seconds away from the last time I saw you alive.
Every Saturday I find myself rewinding back to the Saturday we lost you. It’s like when you can’t find something in your bag so you take each item out and place it carefully on the table searching for the lost thing. The same happens to my memory, its cluttered and I’m forever searching for the reason why. So I find myself regularly thinking about each hour of that day, from when I woke you up to walk Zac with me and you refused saying you were still tired, to making you the bacon and egg sandwich for your breakfast when we got back from helping your aunty with some trellis. Your annoyance at your Grandads phone call, each thing plays like a broken record from that busy, normal Saturday and I keep on searching like someone deranged for the lost thing that will give me an answer.
It’s now been nine months to the day that I last spoke to you. Our last conversation, just a typical exchange, you, a bit stroppy because your brother had got a new bed (or so I thought) You said, I suppose we’re not going shopping now are we and I replied as soon as we’ve finished this we’ll get off Neve. You could see I was in the middle of building your brothers bed up, surrounded by bits of wood and screws. I thought you’d gone to get ready, can you even begin to imagine the horror and shock when I discovered what you’d really gone to do.
So that’s it, our last exchange, how normal is that.
When I think about how you must have felt my heart shatters a little bit more. You didn’t warn me or plead with me for help, you didn’t say mum I need to talk to you, no, you just left us all to pick up the pieces of our shattered family that’s now missing a vital part. We’re a bit like a table with a missing leg, unstable and non functional, I feel that if anyone were to put too much pressure on us we’d just break.
Nine months, it seems like an excruciatingly long time since I last saw your face or heard your voice but it can also seems like yesterday. All the while, the loathsome clock keeps ticking.

Miss you beyond the stars Nevey

Mum x

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