I was at school with your mother, and her sisters. We met when we were both eight. How long ago is that?!

She wore my wedding dress when she married your father. She was god-mother to my older son. But somewhere along the way we lost touch.

I was sad to see that Angela had died and sorry that I left it too late to try and get in touch again.

I am sure that all the Neville’s (and Gibaud’s) will have been truly supportive to each other. They always were an amazing clan!

Very best wishes to you and your brothers and sisters.
Diana.

Letting difficult life experiences take us to where we’re supposed to be and not just where we’ve ended up is important. Sounds like you’re doing that. Acceptance is crucial, but just because we accept something doesn’t mean we have to like it. It is a process, and thank God. I do think the sad thing, sometimes, is that process can often rob us of the precious time we’re living in now, where life IS happening.

I have not lost a parent, yet. I did loose a close friend to cancer. Firstly I numbed it and dismissed some guilt I felt for not being there in the end like I said I would. I lost that time to regret and guilt and eventually reached a bottom (caused by a multitude of things).

Life is a gift, and I wasn’t always good at accepting gifts. I wake up each day and get into serious gratitude for being alive and having my family. I make a point to tell them how much they mean to me. No matter how uncomfortable it makes them feel to hear it. I tell them anyway.

Glad I found your blog, I’m inspired by your travels. My dream too is to be location independent (I’m a programmer/analyst now) and move to someplace sunny where my wife and I can scuba dive and help others every single day!

In other words, every bit of what you wrote spoke directly to my soul.

I read this from two different views, simultaneously. One was as a daughter who lost a mom FAR too soon. Like you, I would give anything for another day with her and can only take comfort in knowing she loved me, and I loved her.

The other perspective was as a mom. Some would say I spend entirely too much time with my son… I lavish him with love, and praise, and support, and kindness, and anything else I can think of. “He needs to learn independence.” Or, “He needs to learn the world doesn’t work that way; it’s cruel and indifferent, and he needs to toughen up.” Or, “You won’t always be able to be there to hold his hand.” (These are the things I hear from time to time.)

But, ask me if I care what they think? I don’t. I have one job in this life, as it pertains to my son: to make him feel loved. Every day I plant as many seeds of love as I can into his little heart because I don’t take it for granted that I have 70 more years to spend with him. I may die tomorrow, or in a year, or in 30. But whenever it is, sad as he will be, he will KNOW that he was loved… and that is the one thing that comforts me in my loss.

It sounds like Angela Christina Gibaud did a wonderful job planting seeds of love in you, and I can’t wait to see what they blossom into.

Thank you for sharing your story so openly!