Another year has passed and your absence is magnified more than ever. The house that used to unite us on special occasions is now abandoned. Your pictures on the wall stare at us and remind us of the years of pain and suffering. The carers coming in and out to wake you up, dress you, feed you. Your helplessness leaving a trail of guilt that remains three years later.
How do we move on from this painful milestone? As the eldest daughter do I assume the role of matriarch? Reluctantly, attempting to unite everyone but not with much success.
I suppose covid and lockdown helped to cover the huge gap in the family caused by the loss. No huge Christmas dinners, no travelling up and down the motorway, no arguments about loading and unloading the dishwasher (some progress but the pain of seeing every piece of cutlery, plate dish piled in the sink ruined a great meal).
Another Christmas will come and go and memories will continue to fade. I see you running around making sure everyone has eaten. I hear everyone pleading with you to sit down and eat. I see the smile on your face when you take the first bite and you say, ‘this tastes good!’