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 am honestly laughing so hard at this picture, what an eloquent quote. I know my mom would also be laughing, she loves this grumpy cat. I'm still laughing, hold on, give me a moment and we'll get down to the point -the point oh my god it's too funny!

Okay.... still laughing, I hope you are too, look at that, piss funny, comedy gold right there.

I had my first exam today. It went okay, definitely could have been better but it wasn't a disaster so it's okay. One down one to go. This week while I've been revising hard to go over everything and get my thoughts straight and feel confident about sitting down and writing about the subject that I strongly believe needs to have more banter like seriously English teachers are so uptight calm down, I've been wanting to turn to my mom.

I wanted to tell her I was struggling and needed help to suggest some ideas or give the definition of a word. I wanted her to encourage me and motivate me to actually get on with it or to keep on going for a little bit more. I wanted her to reassure me that I'll do fine and when results day rolls around she would be proud of me.

I took my maths foundation GCSE exam in year 9 when my mom was healthy. I walked in with my brother who went to get all of his GCSE results and we both came out holding our envelopes and walked over to a bench she was siting on. We both did well of course (we're fabulous) and her smile was so big and her hugs were so tight and I couldn't wait until two years when I'd get that again with all of my GCSE subjects.

Shit went down just before my mock exams, I didn't revise and did bad because I'd forgotten things and I was even asked to take the foundation papers in science because of my bad results but I told them I can bring it back again in time for the real thing. I did. But I didn't get my smile or my hug. Dad was very quiet, maybe he was wishing the same as me and just trying to keep cool. And now I'm doing it all again, and will do it next year too.

Firstly this is bullshit now, education takes the almighty piss, I'm bored of this routine now. More importantly, I can't rely on my imagination to comfort me and tell me what she would say. How many times she would tell me she's proud of me, how many times she'd look at me, smile and then pull me in for a hug. But I do have an abundance of friends and family for support who reassure me that yes, my mom would be so proud of me. I guess I just need her for that bit inbetween learning the crap and getting a grade for how much crap I know for her to tell me to keep on wading through the crap because summer is clean and happy.

That's a fucking weird metaphor - sorry for all the swears.