I wrote this post on my other blog last year. When I saw prompt number 4 for Josie’s Writing Workshop ’Share a powerful memory from your childhood’ I instantly though of this one and wanted to share it again.
Apologies for the departure from my normal stuff, but for one day only, here is the other me.
There is sadness in his eyes …
The phone rings. Catherine’s Mum, Maria, leaves the room. Five minutes later she returns looking drained, sad. She speaks to her friend and they both look at me and continue with the party games with instant cheerful faces. Their eyes tell a different story. I stop sucking my sweet and chew it, failing the game.
Fifteen minutes later the party finishes, a flurry of parents arrive to collect their children. I am in the front room with Catherine and a couple of others. Sitting by the window I can see my Dad walking up the drive. The doorbell rings and Maria opens the door. I leave the room and hover in the hallway.
Engrossed in their hushed conversation they do not see me.
Although close friends, I find it strange that Maria gives my Dad a hug and she tells him she is sorry. Why is she sorry? I squeeze past them unnoticed and stand on the step behind my Dad, ready to leave.
“Laura, your Dad is here” Maria shouts into the house.
“I’m here” I say from behind them. They look at me, at each other, then we all exchange goodbyes.
Maria gives me my party bag, I unwrap a yellow, sticky lollipop. We begin the short walk down the hill to our house. We talk about the party and then I ask Dad how Mum is. He ignores me or doesn’t hear my question.
“How is Mummy?” I ask again.
Nothing. He is looking straight ahead and walking faster.
“Daddy! How is Mummy?” I say louder this time.
Why won’t he speak to me?
He stops and bends down so that his eyes are level with mine. There is sadness in his eyes. Something is wrong, my Daddy looks different. He is holding my hand.
“Laura, Mummy has died” he says.
The lollipop falls from my hand and my legs feel like jelly, I want to be sick. I look at the lollipop lying on the floor; its sticky coating covered in grit from the pavement. I burst into tears. My stomach is churning; the pavement falls away from my feet as my Dad scoops me up and carries me home.
I am 9 years old, my Mummy has gone.
16 Comments on "There is a sadness in his eyes …"
(((Hugs)))
xxxxxxxxx
Hi Laura,
I’m a lurker…but I just want to send hugs to you too…
J.E.x
So so sad. Welling up. And beautifully written xx
Completely choked up here. Crying now. xxx
So unbelievably sad.
Im so sorry for you loss at such a young age too, I was 17 when my mum passed away and I remember those same feelings which you descibe so well. A really really lovely written piece x
I don’t know how a nine year old deals with this. So sad.
So beautifully written. I wish I could have been there to hug your nine-year-old self xxx
I love this post. Same emotions reading it again. Big hugs dude xx
Laura, Your words swam in my tears. A powerful memory indeed, and I guess that becoming a mother yourself must given a whole new angle to your grief. I’m impressed at your coping methods, two blogs, one for each side. Good idea.
Can only echo what’s already been said. A beautiful, devastating post.
A lovely, well written piece, certainly got my tears flowing.
I remember telling you how much I loved this post when we were in Orlando. So beautifully written.
xxx
Oh honey
Tears for you here, for that nine year old you and for you now.
Beautifully shared. Thank you x
Tears rolling down my face. My name is Laura too and I lost my Mum when I was 5. When she died I was on a school trip. I came home and my Dad told me on the pavement outside my house. He managed to contain himself the car ride home but just couldn’t wait until we were in the house. Lots of similarities there. I can completely empathise. Nothing else to say other than sending big hugs and thank you for sharing x
What a sad, brilliantly written post.