The prompt for this week from Carrot Ranch is unremembered. Not sure where the darkness came from but I went with it.
I was nine when my mother was diagnosed with cancer, eleven when she died. My memories of being ten are ragged, filled with holes.
I remember crying. Hospital visits. Coming home to an empty house, devoid of the smells of baking and lemon Pledge. The panicky feeling as I opened the door, what if this was the day she died and I just didn’t know it yet?
Surely people were kind to me during this difficult time? But no acts of kindness remain in my memory. I can’t remember anyone but my mother and myself during that horrific year.