Another year passed.

Today it is 6 years since my aunt Mikki left this world. It's strange, it feels like only yesterday. The wounds are still so fresh and deep. The sound of my grandfathers cries haunt me. The way her hands were so cold to touch. My last plead with her as I whispered in her ear "Please wake up Mikki. PLEASE! Just open your eyes." All of these things swim around in my head and make me dizzy.

We never get over the loss of a loved one. We simply just learn to live with the anguish. We can still smile and laugh. We can go about our daily functions, but the sorrow is still there. Lingering in our broken hearts.

I have photos of her in my home, and I look upon her beautiful face every day. I yearn for a comforting hug from her. For a smart arse remark to bring the tone into the gutter as she always would. God, I miss her humour and her laugh...I miss her light. The one that would set a room ablaze when she walked in.

I look at Natasha, and she resembles her more and more with each day. I see her in Natasha and Remy when they smile. The corner of their lips curling just like hers, and their eyes crinkling  and sparkling the same way. She's here, every time they look back at me I see her.

Today will never be an easy day for my family. Today was the day our world exploded and came crumbling down around us. We move through life carrying the wounds, carefully protected so as not to rupture them again, but it is inevitable that on this day they will always re-open. The tears will fall and our hearts will ache. The dull pain will always be there in the darkest corners within us. We will always honour her on this day and remember the beauty that shone from her.

Rest peacefully my beautiful aunt. May your star shine brightly tonight for all of us to see. You are forever missed. I love you.

She said what?!

Recently my best friend and I did the unthinkable and ventured into Ikea on a Saturday with kids in tow. I put my eldest into Smaland, so I just had my youngest and she had her daughter who is the same age.

After getting buzzed to collect Molly as our allocated hour had expired, we began finishing our session at the mega store when Molly exclaimed that she needed the bathroom. I told her to hold on as we were almost done. At this point she tells me she needs to poo and that if she doesn't go to the toilet soon she "will poo in my pants!" (all quite loudly too). So I gesture to my friend and tell her I'll meet her on the other side of the registers. I rush through the register myself, and run my girls to the toilet. By the time we return my friend is at the register.

Something about her is off. She looked flustered and annoyed...and a little upset. I asked what was wrong and she told me that shortly after I left her, that her daughter had started to get a bit restless as it was late in the day (about 4:30pm) and the witching hour for toddlers. She was trying to get all her stuff quickly and out of the store when a middle aged woman felt the need to say these words to my mate with a smirk, "I think she's had enough, don't you?". I was livid! How dare anyone presume to feel free to say such a thing to a parent. I had only wished that I had been there with her, because I can tell you that a few choice words would have rolled off my tongue.

When did it become OK for people to randomly come up to you and put their two cents in? When did it become OK to publicly humiliate a mother doing the best that she could? I would never presume to know so much about a parent, and just walk up to them and spout such comments. People have said that maybe she was trying to be funny and make light of the situation, but from what my friend said, this woman was purposefully malicious. I'm sorry, but that old adage of  'if you haven't got anything nice to say, don't say anything at all' is very much applicable here. 

I am truly horrified that my mate had to hear something like that. Most of the time when I am out and about with my girls and Molly kicks off into one of her almighty tantrums, I get the usual looks of horror. I can feel the judgement oozing out of them, penetrating my skin. But then, there will always be that one woman....a mother, and she will smile at me and say something to the tune of "it will pass". Sometimes there is a even a hand on your hand as they say it. And that tiny gesture makes the other people who watch on in horror, just melt away. So to my beautiful best friend, know this...you are an amazing mother, and a truly awesome woman. No vile middle aged crank in Ikea will take that away from you. Trust in your ability and trust your instincts. Your little girl will only be this age once, so enjoy every moment of it....even the witching hours. Screw anyone who presumes to tell you how to do things. This is me putting my hand on yours. You are doing a fabulous job.