Just for me

This week it was 2 months since Mum died.

I have no idea how so much time has come to pass. It still seems so recent and part of me thinks the world should somehow have paused to note her passing and not quite let go of that pause yet.

I like that when I'm home there are things around me that Mum made for me. She made them just for me, no one else. Like this wee cross stitch.

She bought it in Scotland because that's where Heather comes from and it reminded her of me. Back home she sat and worked out the pattern and patiently did the cross stitch. Then she chose the framing.

On the back in her hand writing is, "To Heather with Lots of Love from Mum, May 1997". It was a gift for my birthday.

It hangs on the wall by my dressing table. I see it when I walk in my bedroom and when I'm lying in bed. It's survived more large earthquakes than I can count. It didn't fly off the wall but these days is secured with a blob of blu tak tucked into the picture hook.

I look at it now with fresh eyes; Mum chose and made it just for me.