Today is August 3rd and thirty-five years ago today my mother passed away.
I remember the day so clearly. Though it was more evening, as I was about to go out and play in a squash tournament.
My sister rang and blurted out over the phone: “Mum’s dead.”
I was taken aback and listened as she told me the tale of mum being out during the day, coming home, preparing dad’s dinner and saying she felt a bit off and going to lie down.
Dad went in later and found her dead.
I lived ten hours away, with three small kids.
I was numb for a long time, her leaving me so suddenly left an indelible imprint on my mind.