Visions & Fata Morganas

My dearest Mum,

Monday I saw you in a cafe. Your hair, your face, your highlights your style. My heart did a leap! I new it, you couldn't be gone forever... Just for a split second I was incredibly relieved and happy. Naturally it wasn't you. Since then I was mad at my brothers, especially the older one... He can push all my buttons within seconds. I don't quite know why but it is exactly the same effect your brother has on me.

Oh the anger... is one if my biggest challenges currently... I don't know what to do, I just get MAD and ANGRY very easily

Anger Issues

I can't really remember myself as an angry person. But somehow during pregnancy I became angrier, I suddenly started to flip while ion the car when people drove strangely. Or said something. After Tonies I returned to my smooth, relaxed self most of the time. But since you died it's back: Angry Me! I get mad: I throw phones, doors, shoes. It scares me. I am impatient with me and others. I get mad at my clients and have the feeling as if I can't take it anymore. It's as if I am boiling inside.

All the things I should have done. I should have helped you more than I did. I should have made you go through chemotherapy last year. I should have been more aware of what breast cancer means. I am so mad that I believed all those articles about how they can heal BC today and how good the chances are. But just part of the statistics are mentioned and the little footnote is missing. I was so naive and just wanted to believe you were on the right side of all the stats.

I've never been so angry before! Why didn't I stay with you all those weeks? Why did you die? Why are you not here for me? It goes against others, Tom and Tonie and friends who don't call and just write quick texts and expect me to answer and tell them what Christmas was like. Are you kidding? First Christmas after the death of my mother and you want me to tell you all about it in a text message? Why don't you call and just ask me? Talk to me? Why don't you take the time and listen if you ask stuff like that in the first place? I don't have to talk about my mother all the time. I am able to do small talk. So there is no need to fear a phone call with me.

Blechhh. Anger, anger, anger. After a few calm days away, first came the tears, know the anger again.

Yesterday my cashmere client invited us to her temporary popup store cocktail happening and I met jewelry designer Susa Beck and  fell in love with her ring designs. Uhh, I wish I could afford one of these fairy-tailish, surreal rings.

I love you.

Schilf Medium Vent Vert – Dita Fruit Lemon Squash – Uroboros

Graveyard bully

My dearest, cutest, most beloved Mum,

next to all the wrapping and packing I have a great story for you. Ahh, I wish I could tell you in person. You would be so mad and we would talk it over and over.. and have a glass of wine and rant some more! An evening of guilty gossiping and slaying. 

Your once upon a time BFF – for so many years you always had tears in your eyes talking about her and the loss of your connection.. because of live choices? Or social reasons or simply because your friendship never was what you had believed – Apparently she is very unhappy about how we handled your burial, memorial, etc., etc. She can not believe that we organized everything according to your wishes. The three of us seem to be too immature – nearing our Forties –  to manage a traditional burial as it is supposed to be for our mother. Unfortunately she couldn't atttend you memorial because of a weekend trip to Spain. And she fixed our shortcomings  and her remorse quickly by ordering a little steel-thingy lamp that has to be installed and fixed permanently unto your grave. She ordered everything. 

Minor little detail. She didn't bother to check with us first, whether it is ok that someone digs a whole into your grave, fills it with cement and has a light fixture installed for Christmas and beyond. Grumph. What to do. I only know because your friend Jay was with her at the cemetery. Now I had to call her to let her know that we don't really appreciate people installing things on our family grave. Once I finally found the time to call her between packing bracelets and being sad she was oblivious to the fact that she might be a bully. Instead of ranting on and asking her what the f. she was thinking and why she didn't confirm with us before changing something on your grave - I very politely told her that we had already chosen lamps matching your tombstone. Thank you very much. Still the egocentric she has become, she didn't get the hint and went on explaining how important a Christmas grave lighting is for catholics. You weren't catholic, you weren't even protestant and you DID NOT GIVE A S. what happened once your were cremated! Besides we did follow your wishes concerning your burial exactly and really didn't save a penny on anything concerning you and your new home and your journey to your final resting place. 

But I didn't tell her. I was nice and understanding and a stupid pushover. And I am so mad about myself that I didn't tell her... anyway. I am certain that you would be very happy about everything we did and how we did it. You'd tell me it wasn't worth telling her off it would only get me in trouble and she wouldn't get it anyway. 

I miss you. Don't you think this is a stupid bully story? How can she bother us with her "etiquette of the graveyard" when she wasn't even there for you while you were still alive. That day I was so mad and she made me feel so bad, I almost hated her. Sorry.