Dear Mitchum: Thank you for the memories

You know that moment you hear a song or smell a certain scent and it triggers some kind of memory? When it makes you literally forget what you’re thinking and feeling at that moment while you relive that memory.

For me, there are a few songs that take me to moments in my life as far back as when I was 5 years old. When my dad still had an abundance of hair and a beard.

“Karma Karma Karma Karma Karma Chameleon
You come and go
You come and go
Loving would be easy if your colors were like my dream
Red, gold and green
Red, gold and green”

The other is dancing with my mom to the beat of Eurythmics “There must be an angel”. I love that song and it always brings back fond memories of our old house.

“I walk into an empty room
And suddenly my heart goes “boom”!
It’s an orchestra of angels
And they’re playing with my heart.”

My mother-in-law passed away last week and currently I am purely existing and not living. There is no way I can explain what I am going through. For the past week Keith and I have been hurt, offended, walked over, disrespected and so much more. So much so, that grief has taken a back seat to fending off attacks. That hurt has me wondering the importance of my presence in her life when she lived. My common sense tells me to not be phased by any of this. I sit and wonder where all these supposed bff’s and close family were when she was alive. But I am only human and I am deeply hurt and so sick of hearing “What she would (or would not) have wanted”. This is NOT about me but I think I was close enough to her (and knew her well enough) to know that she would not have liked, nor tolerated, her kids being subjected to this kind of behaviour from anyone.

This morning however, when I applied some Mitchum (for a change), I took a whiff and was transported to a happier time in my life. I was walking down Hope Street in Town with my girls. It’s where we usually parked when we took 1st K for his tutoring sessions on Saturdays. We’d walk from there to the Parade before going for breakfast. (It’s best to hit the parade early to get your hands on the good stuff.) Then, after feeding our faces, we’d make our way to other little stores where I always found a bargain. My Jasper Conran boots were bought (at a steal) on one of those expeditions. Then we’d brave our way to the Company Gardens and run away from the squirrels. I. Cannot. Handle. Squirrels. Neither can Little K. I would happily take off my shoes and sit on the grass (far away from the squirrels obviously) and people watch. Trying to see our city through the eyes of the foreigners. I’d gaze at the mountain and the old buildings and wonder, like I always do, what the city was like fifty or even a hundred years ago. How many people had wandered the streets of Town? What legacies have they left behind to their loved ones?

For a while today I was in a happy place. I know that my underarms will start crumbling in a little while and I’ll be too embarrassed to raise my arms because of it. But thanks Mitchum. Thank you for taking me away for a while, and making me feel. Thank you for the memories 🙂

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9 thoughts on “Dear Mitchum: Thank you for the memories

  1. I am so sorry for your huge loss. And so sorry that in stead of people rallying around you and supporting you they are being hurtful and disrespectful. I have to say that more than a month after my FIL passed away I am still not quite in the here and now. I am struggling. I guess we all need time

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