I have been attempting to write these five things for more than a few months now. I have been very apprehensive to share it so publicly. I know that I am not a writer, and I fear that the words I have written will fall short. I have written this as a thank you, for the words that have been offered up by others, both online and in person. To the people who have shared their stories with me and helped me through my loss with advice they learnt through theirs. It is also a thank you to the people who did not understand what I was going through but who were patient enough to stand by me, and learn. But mostly I have been apprehensive to share these thoughts because I feel they will not do justice for the woman whom they are dedicated to. I wish that it was written with the grace of a Nobel prize winner, because that is what she deserves. But it isn’t, its written by me and she loved me so she would probably love this anyway.
Here are the Five Things I’ve learned in the ten years since my mam died:
1. Every cloud has a silver lining
I cannot imagine the person I would be if Mam were still here. In her absence though I strive for more than to just make her proud. I feel as though I owe it to her to live a meaningful life and to make a positive impact on others as I so often saw her do. Almost everything positive I have ever done, I have done in her name. The silver lining to the most gigantic cloud is that it has given my life direction and purpose.
2. We will never understand what we are capable of, until we have to
There have been many occasions in the last ten years when the pain of losing Mam has felt so physical that I thought I would die. When it finally eased, I was shocked at my body’s ability to survive pain like it. Still, when I think about the days and weeks following her death I cannot believe that we all managed to continue breathing, continue placing one foot in front of another.
Death is the one guarantee in life, and no matter what the circumstances, we are hard-wired to survive the death of someone we love. I have always taken comfort in the fact that our predisposition is survival, that billions of people before me survived the death of someone they loved most in the world, and millions more have done it since.
3. The impact she made on the person I am can never be reversed
As I approach ten years without her, I live in fear that one day my memory of her will fade. I have always been desperate to keep her close to me - be it wearing her jewellery, tribute tattoos or reading her favourite books.
Given that when I look at my own reflection I see her calm brown eyes looking back at me, I can’t ever really lose her, even if I wasn’t genetically 50% her. Because nothing can reverse how you are forever changed by the way another person makes you feel. Pictures can be lost and memories can fail but no one can take away the parts of me that have been shaped by being loved by her.
4. Despite it all, there has been so much to celebrate
When Mam died, our world collapsed. I thought that things might never feel stable again, that life would just continue to feel like heavy messy chaos. But it didn’t. Even in the hours following her death we smiled, maybe even for a few seconds we laughed. In the decade since we have had some incredible highs, made more wonderful memories and rebuilt our lives. It is not the life that we imagined, and even the happiest days are tainted by her absence but it is a good life. I feel such pride and admiration for every single person who has ever loved and lost and continued to live life to the fullest. It is no easy feat.
5. Thank you to everyone who has shared their loss
Going through such a big loss at age 12 meant that there weren’t many of my peers who could relate and understand what I was going through. Reading books and poems and listening to music about grief brought a lot of comfort. I don’t remember when I came across this page on Instagram but the words strangers have written about their grief has for many years now made me feel less alone.
About Catherine
My name is Catherine and I have written this piece in memory of my mam, Maria Ruane, who died on the 12.12.2011. I was inspired to write this piece by my little sister Maeve, who previously wrote a piece for Life. Death. Whatever. I am going to include the short piece she wrote about our mammy because she is a far more eloquent writer than I could ever hope to be:
“Within a weekend, what we believed was a winter flu turned out to be an aggressive form of cancer. Two days after the diagnosis, I said goodbye to the most gorgeous, brilliant, influential woman I will ever know. Mam was exceptional in every way, this does not mean she led an extraordinary life, but she had a way to her that made the ordinary everyday, remarkable. She relished the little things in life and taught me so many valuable lessons in eight short years. I am so often incredibly angry that the world only gave me eight years with her but then I realised it was eight more than so many ever got with her. Being her daughter is the greatest privilege I will have in this life”.
