I Miss My Mother
"Why do you keep that pillow", is what I am usually asked. I have a pillow that I take with me on trips (hospital, visiting family etc) and it isn't small.
I guess I take it because my mum gave it to me. I don't have photos anymore, or her art books. I don't have any way to remember her other than my fading memory. I find the pillow helps me remember her.
If I didn't have it, I think that I'd be sitting in a room with no recolletion of who I was, but for some reason that pillow just jolts me.
I remember picking it out for kindergarten that I went to for like a day before I was taken out. I picked the largest one; big enough to jump into and curl up on. I loved it. It was red, and its faded now but it was my favourite colour then.
When mum died and we were kicked out of the large house I was set to inherit it was the only thing I could take with me. Not my toys, or my stuffed animals; nothing else but a large pillow.
It helped me through what her partner did, and what carers did to me. For a while I lost it in foster care and it was returned but very filthy. The insides were replaced but the case remained the same.
I guess it was an item I loved because it held so many memories for me, an item bought for me before my mother's mental health took over, and a time where I was a happy family. I know that one day I will have to replace it, but at the time being its good to have something to remember her. I think I'd be lost if I ever forgot.
To some it may be childish, but to me it just means something more than just an object. I hope one day to find those books and photos though.
I guess I take it because my mum gave it to me. I don't have photos anymore, or her art books. I don't have any way to remember her other than my fading memory. I find the pillow helps me remember her.
If I didn't have it, I think that I'd be sitting in a room with no recolletion of who I was, but for some reason that pillow just jolts me.
I remember picking it out for kindergarten that I went to for like a day before I was taken out. I picked the largest one; big enough to jump into and curl up on. I loved it. It was red, and its faded now but it was my favourite colour then.
When mum died and we were kicked out of the large house I was set to inherit it was the only thing I could take with me. Not my toys, or my stuffed animals; nothing else but a large pillow.
It helped me through what her partner did, and what carers did to me. For a while I lost it in foster care and it was returned but very filthy. The insides were replaced but the case remained the same.
I guess it was an item I loved because it held so many memories for me, an item bought for me before my mother's mental health took over, and a time where I was a happy family. I know that one day I will have to replace it, but at the time being its good to have something to remember her. I think I'd be lost if I ever forgot.
To some it may be childish, but to me it just means something more than just an object. I hope one day to find those books and photos though.
