Dear Mummy W,

You won’t be able to read this.  I don’t know when you stopped being able to read but I know when you look at words now you guess them based on context like a small child.

And if I read it to you, you’d probably not be able to follow because it’s too long and wandery, and while part of your mind loves going to long and wandery places these days, most often you get lost on that journey.

But maybe it’s not important whether you know these words or not.  Maybe what is important is that others do, and that hopefully they can gain the understanding that will allude you.

Because, Mummy W, I want to remind myself to capture you now before you fade any further.  I looked back at photos of my wedding today – not quite two years ago – and you were already fading then, but there was still a vibrancy there, colour, a gentle light behind your eyes.  That light still flickers and you shine through, but it’s already become dimmer, almost without us realising.

And that makes me sad.  For us, but for you too.  The frustration when you’re aware of this fading is almost tangible.  But more than that.  The way you are treated now by all of us – as an old lady who doesn’t understand much, infuriates you when you are aware of it.  But then, you are mostly an old lady who doesn’t understand much.  And isn’t it kinder to help you where we can, and risk that fury than not?

You were a beautiful butterfly.  As a child, a teen, an adult.  Even through the times when illness crumpled your wings a little, your colours always shone though, strong and determined, no matter what the odds.

It seems so unfair that after all those times you’ve fought to fly again, now you – your wings – are fading, so slowly.

I guess that is why I put old photos on each post I write about you now, Mummy W.  Because I want people to see the colour of who you were before so that they can see that there are still shimmers there; that you are still that butterfly inside.

And it isn’t lost on me that now, finally we have the time and (sometimes!) the patience for each other that we never had before.  I’m just sorry for both of us that it took this long and these circumstances; I hope we make up for lost time before you fade any more.

Maybe that is the message that I want to send with these words (and we all know this already, really):

Take the time now before you fade, before they fade.

And remember that our wings do not define us.  Always keep in mind that there is a beautiful butterfly inside all of us, however faded the outside might look.

I love you, Mummy W.

Love, Pog x