My mother says life is just one big coach ride. And that you’ll never know exactly when your stop is coming up. She says to look out for open windows. I’m still not sure what she means by this.

I was 10 years old, when my mother said that to me. She said that she should have told me all about life sooner. And not lying in a hospital bed; dying. She was diagnosed with cancer, just 4 days after my 10^th birthday. I could tell this year was going to be a bad one already.

My father had already left for his annual business trip. He was and always is away on some business trip. We never really bonded. He was more of a passer by than a father, but my mother made up for his absence. She was always right there, by my side.

I had stayed by my mother’s side for over 3 weeks till she pasted away. Only 2 days before, when I asked why all this was happening she said that this was her stop and that it was time for her to step off the bus. I cried for hours. My mother was really the only family I had ever known, as I wasn’t particularly close to my father because he was never around to get close to.

The day after she had died, I was sent to my cousin’s house. My father came home the following weekend to get me. We have gotten a little bit closer over the years, but we could never have the same relationship as I had with my mother. I think he was scared knowing that I was now dependant on him for the love and care my mother provided.

So 6 years on here I am again. Looking down reading the marble stone planted in the ground before me reading the inscription;

Christine Ashley Davies

She did more than exist, she lived.

She did more than listen, she understood.

Rest peacefully, dear mother and wife.

1969-2002

I’ve made a habit of coming to visit my mother once a month, just to check that she’s still there. A part of me feels like she just got up and left me, instead of being taken away.