Ten Years On: on bereavement

Ten years ago my mum died. It was also my dad's birthday. And their wedding anniversary. She wasn't conscious that day and life support was turned off that afternoon.

In the intervening years:

• I started and completed a PhD
• Neil and I travelled to New York, Washington DC, Los Angeles and New Zealand
• We bought a house

My dad died a few years later: he'd initially rallied after mum's death, far more than any of us had anticipated, before declining swiftly and begrudgingly.

I mourn the loss of my dad as a man who could have been great, whose life had seen events I have only read in history books and who never got the chance to fulfill all the promise I can see he had looking back on his life. (And who was only just well enough to be around for some of my achievements).

But I miss my mum: I got my dad's Germanic nose and what intellect I possess probably comes from him. From my mum, I feel I got the curiosity to do something with whatever brains I possess, and her heart and empathy. At least, that's what I hope.

Sorry for the self-reflection; I do occasionally indulge in thinking about what I'm like and my life, and thinking about loss.

But mostly, as further birthdays approach, I want to reflect that I have been incredibly lucky and have the love of a good man and good friends. I have a lot to be happy about and mum (and dad) would want me to celebrate that.