I haven’t written here for a while. I needed some time to reflect on this year. Last year was the 10 year mark of when mum passed away. This was the hardest year by far, 10 years? It’s felt like a life time, even though it felt like yesterday. I still remember every detail of that horrible day, it’s stuck on my mind like a post it note, everyday constantly reminding me of that day. The day I lost her.
I really hope she knows how much she is changing lives, I promised myself and her, that I would try my very best to make a difference to others and the way we view domestic abuse. Last year I created an awareness morning in memory of her. It was such a success. The very beginning of something amazing. I will be hopefully speaking at the AADFA conference this year, I am so blessed. I am Jenny’s voice, I will speak on behalf of her for the rest of my life, the way she died was not right, we have to remind the world of that, I won’t stop there.
Grieving never stops, never pauses, there isn’t really a beginning or really an end. We don’t have a chance to accept or to let it sink in. It’s ever lasting, we have to learn to adapt and cope with death, even though we shouldn’t have to. Nobody ever thinks they will be affected by homicide, the truth is, it’s happening a lot more than we realise. The one thing I know is that I am not alone, I have met families who are in the same boat, the same path, the same journey as me. Jenny is not just a statistic, she is a person, a mother, a sister, someone’s friend. The statistic is just a door, what’s beyond the door is more important, I will always describe the type of person she was to every person I speak to, the person she was and still is, means so much more than just being defined by her death. Because she may have been murdered by her partner, but Jenny Young is my mother and she is worth way more than that.
Me and her are riding this storm together, on behalf of every victim who has suffered or is suffering from domestic abuse. My life has completely changed since losing my mother, it will never be the same, when I have children of my own, they will know about their amazing grandmother that was the strongest woman there ever was, who got up and packed her bags, started a new life and fought until her very last breath, I know she didn’t go down without a fight, I know her better than anybody.
Bereaved families are one of kind, the strongest of all. I know because I’ve met them, I’ve met the type of people they are, their pain sits beside their passion for change, for a difference. We never think it will happen to us, but when it does, we come up fighting, it’s just the beginning. So to every bereaved family, we’re in this together.
I have written plenty of blog posts, but every single blog post has come from my heart and the memories I have left of my mum. As life goes on, years go by, I still walk down the street, be reminded of a place. Drinking at a bar, her favourite song plays. It may be 11 years on, but she is more here than she ever was. It’s my birthday, I turn 23 tomorrow, the last time I spoke to or even saw my mum was when I was 12 years old. A lot has changed, the world has gone by. One thing I know that hasn’t changed is that Jenny’s memory lives on. We either sink or swim, but sinking isn’t option, because of that was ever an option, I wouldn’t be Jenny’s daughter.