Card Factory is a wonderful place but when March rolls around, BANG, mother's day is plastered everywhere and it's a bit overpowering for me. I have to walk past one nearly every day since it sits inbetween my sixth form and Asda, where I like to get my lunch from. I always forget that mother's day is so near and I'm drawn in by the pretty colours and patterns that practically spill out of the shop before it smacks me in the face and I avert my eyes to avoid freezing up and blankly staring at the abundance of...stuff.

Yesterday I walked past a Card Factory with a friend who realised that she needed to get a birthday card so headed into the shop and I found myself pausing to take a breath as if I was about to dive into the sea. Metaphorically I was diving into a sea of "mothers day tat" (although there was a mug in there that said "I am so lucky to have such a perfect child" which I found most amusing). Nevertheless, I just headed straight to the back by the aged cards and started looking through them, ignoring the collection of people I just squeezed myself through as they picked out cards and mugs and cushions for their own mothers.

Then it occurs to me I should get a little something for my grandmothers and godmothers, as they are who I have to "celebrate" mothers day with now, but a little too late to send things off to them now inbetween finishing school work - I'll work on being more prepared to appreciate my extra mothers next year than worrying about missing the one I lost. If any of my lovely ladies are reading, last year's mother's day post [x] still applies and I love you all very much.

That wasn't as tear jerking as it seemed it was going to be in my head, although if it was for you then I have some tissues here that you may have [insert virtual tissues here]. We shouldn't take to commercialism and buy into just one day for appreciating your mom but even so, bring a tea to her bedside in the morning as I used to do and write sweet words in a pretty card for her and buy her the flowers she loves the most. And even do it on random days of the year too so she knows just how much you love her all year round.

Tomorrow I have the happy distraction of a photoshoot with the lovely Steve and Deb so I shall depart from you now and get my camera ready - to be honest it's in some need of loving, the poor thing hasn't had much use with all this never ending school work that consumes my time. *heavy sigh* right-o, I love and leave you.

Recently I have been missing my mom a lot. She's been visiting in my dreams, which are as strange as ever, and seeing her has been a little comfort. Knowing that I still know her face is a relief. I have the weakest memory and my biggest fear is forgetting her but I remember her hugs like I had a squish yesterday. I held her for a hug after I got home after collecting my results, which proved to be a highly emotional day. I held her and rested my cheek on the top of her urn (is it an urn, would you call it that? It's not a typical metal fancy thing it's quite plain and simple but anyways) and I let out a little cry. Then I just sat there with her on my lap as I scrolled through tumblr and twitter and the like.

I pulled up a selection of picture quotes for todays post and felt this on was most relevant to what I wanted to say. I don't talk about it much. I've had a couple counsellors for different things, I can get onto that in another blog post another time if you would like to hear it - let me know. I didn't enjoy any experience and found it didn't help me much at all but made me cry and feel ashamed of my crying voice and I wasn't really honest, I just agreed to what they thought most people would feel in my situation. So when I was offered counselling after she had passed away (I still use euphemisms for it, it's a hard thought) I politely declined.

I did plan to write my feelings in a journal/notebook as mom did after she was diagnosed but that only had about 2 short entries. And I sometimes mention it to Gemma or have heart to hearts with Eve, Eve and Annie or one of the Bates ladies. And we're already on mother post number 4. Even so, I've stuck to bottling it up as I do with everything. Good or bad, I manage. Everyone always says how strong I am. Emotionally of course, I have the weakest biceps.

Anyway back to the main point. I miss her. I miss her a lot. I miss her every day. Holy Jesus, here come the emotions. I sometimes wish it was me but then I remember that we'd still be separated. Then I wish it was someone else and feel bad for wishing this pain on another family. I try to imagine her input to my life as it is now, what facial expression she'd pull, how explosive her laugh would be, her comment on how I looked or what I achieved or how bad of a day I was having. Some moments are harder to feel her presence than others and that hurts.

I have decided to let myself be miserable on my next birthday. Because I'll be an adult and can do what I want. I predict it will be a hard day for me, like my 46th birthday when I'll become older than my mom. And if I'm not swallowed by misery then fine, I'll let my friends and family smother me in positivity but I have to feel sadness to feel human, everyone does. So I'll give myself a day off from the funny, loud laughing Beky we all know. And there will either be a highly emotional and sensitive blog post or none at all come mid November.

I miss you a little, I guess you could say: a little too much, a little too often, and a little more each day.

It's difficult missing someone. Whether you're apart for one day or one year, by death or distance - it's difficult. You just want them back but you sort of know you can't. All you can really do is focus on the good memories that make you smile because that's what keeps the happiness alive, I think that's the most important thing to do when you're missing someone, or something.

There are two people I miss the most: My mom and my best friend Gemma. On October 20th 2010 Gemma boarded a plane to Australia with only a one way ticket. I remember my mom telling me she'd found me a pen pal to correspond with so that I could finally get my own letters in the mail like everyone else in the house but when she said it was Gemma I suddenly never wanted a pen pal ever because Gemma can't leave, no she mustn't. She returned for Christmas last year on a two month holiday, fitting in my birthday and new years as well. For the first time (in foreveeeerrrr) in five years we got to hug again. It felt so surreal seeing her in 3D, holding her and being so physically close to her again. Though the long, long separation strengthened our friendship, it felt so much better to have her close to me again.

But since she returned back "home" it seemed like a tease. The world showing us what it was like to be #Gemekah then taking it away again, reducing it back to difficult time zone differences, the pain of the many miles between us and internet restricted communications. Nevertheless I am so grateful for our little infinity (how John Green of me) I really am. I'm eager for the day the money finds itself in the hands of a flight institution, bringing us back together again in one country or another. It's comforting to know that we can jump on a plane at any given moment and spend as much time as we like under the others roof, it brings a peace of mind that it doesn't have to be like this forever. The pain is just love stretched out like an elastic band, though I'm scared it might snap I know that there's enough love there to strengthen the connection.

It's different when you miss someone who has passed away though. Much different. Because you know you can't text them or call them, knowing they'll reply when they wake up. You can't get on a plane because they're not anywhere. Only a fluffy could if that's what heaven is - if that place exists. And even then, no shuttle will take you there. There's no elastic band of love because they're not there to hold the other end. It gets all a bit one sided really.

When Gemma told me she'd land in England a couple days before my 17th birthday I felt so relaxed. My best friend, my rock, will be here for me on my mom's first anniversary. I got to hug my best friend on my 17th birthday, the day I didn't want to come around because it was also my mom's first anniversary. That was the biggest comfort. I began missing my mom when she first went into hospital overnight, a speck of my brain knowing she probably wouldn't come back home. And when I knew she was holding on for longer than those "two days" until my birthday, I got scared. Scared people would remember the 25th of November as "Lisa's Day" and not mine. It happened. But I'm so glad she was there.

And so my heart aches everyday for my mother and my sister. Taken from me in two different ways. But aside from my losses, I'm thankful to have loved and lost than never loved at all. And I still love them both with all I've got, with every moment. My two most favourite ladies.

I remember my mom saying to me, "You're going to go from having one mom to loads of moms" and - there's no surprises here - she was right. Last year, on my first mothers day without a mother I found it very daunting and isolating but this year I'm procrastinating life itself. (it's a Sunday okay) But what my mom said to me two years ago has really stuck with me. I had a sense of many mothers before but now they are much more prominent. None of my moms, or any woman for that matter will beat my mommy (I'm sorry but she really is quite flawless js).

I'm not sure why I chose those pictures for todays blog post. They're from the last family holiday we had in 2013, a holiday which had many smiles and laughs (and accidental breakages of not-our-things). I hold the memories so close to my heart.

Today I'd like to say happy Mother's day to my Nannie, my moms mom and my Grandma, my dads mom. I'm sorry I don't really talk to you much but we both know I love you a lottle (it's like a little except a lot). And to Jacqui and Clare, my god mothers, both well chosen by the queen bee herself. She liked you both very much and I really can see why, I love you both. And to Lynda, I remember you whispering in my ear the day before you headed back to you new home in Australia, "I love you like a daughter", which meant a lot as your real daughter is like a sister to me and I couldn't say "I love you like a mother" because my oh my there was a boulder in my throat and tears in my eyes. And to Annie Bates. My brothers "gudmovver", who has adopted me as her babiest daughter. You make me laugh and by heck your pigs in blankets are GOOD!

And I thank all of my newfound mothers for helping me with the loss of my favourite mother, and I hope I comforted you in return in some way or another. I owe you all so much.

I've never wanted to buy flowers so much in my life, I never thought I'd want to buy flowers for anybody. My mom did like flowers, which I still don't understand, you have to feed them and arrange them and even then they'll shortly die but at least they bring beauty for a few days. And maybe that's all part of life for humans. You mom feeds you and makes you look pretty, sets you up for your purpose only for you to wither away at the end of it all. I guess sometimes it's not so fairytale. I love and miss you so much mom, I hope I'm doing you proud - I do try most days.