Well hallo there. Long time no see. I have been neglecting all of you and my poor dear blog for quite some time. I really missed my weekly Wednesday fix of desk snooping and visiting over a cup of tea. But alas, life just got to me. School has been crazy busy. Family life has taken its toll and my desk became a dumping ground with absolutely nothing creative happening.
This is one of the pages I am working on. Love this and plan to frame it and hang it in my class room when I am done.
Have a great week everybody. I will be around to visit as soon as I can.
Warning: Personal ramblings to follow. Stop reading if you just came to see the desk.
This year it is 13 years since my mother passed away. I can hardly believe that it has been so long already. I can still remember the day she died so vividly. I can still feel the pain, the absolute devastation, the feeling of being so very alone without my confidant, my role model, my best friend and my adviser.
I remember asking my dad shortly after that day if the pain ever goes away and his honest answer that he really did not know. He thought it might get better after 28 years and the realisation that it was 27 years since his mom passed. So, after 13 years, I am not even half way to 28 years. The pain is not so unbearable any more and I have more good than bad days.
I firmly believe that she is always around. I often talk to her and sometimes she opens doors. There is one door in my class that opens every time I tell the girls a story about what 'The wise old lady' as they refer to her, would do or say. She really was the wisest person I ever knew and when I have to talk to the girls and give advice about things, I always seem to quote her. It has become a standing joke in class. The girls will often tell me: "Mevrou, your mom is here" and point to the cupboard door that has mysteriously opened.
These last few days have been very hard. I miss her so very much. If you are lucky enough to still have your mother, get up now, hug her, phone her, tell her how much you love her.