I lost my Mum last June. She had lung cancer which had already spread to her liver when diagnosed, she was 66. I am 28 and an only child.

I've always been a strong person and a believer in packing up my hurt and moving on. I have done so in the last 15 months, but every so often a wave just hits me - a realisation that I am actually never going to be able to have that annoying telephone chat when she rings when I'm busy. Or see her handwriting on a new birthday card. Or tell her how well I'm doing in my new job. 

The thing that breaks my heart the most though is regrets. Being the strong willed independent stubborn girl that I am, from a reasonably young age I pushed her away, not wanting to rely on my mum but stand on my own two feet. Somewhere along the line that turned into not hugging her anymore, and stopping saying "I love you" at the end of phone calls. I don't know when. But until my last breath I will now regret every missed hug and "I love you". People try to comfort me by saying I'm just making myself feel guilty - but I know to the bottom of my heart I did not return the unconditional love only a mother can have for her only daughter.  And that will forever haunt me. 

I understand life goes on, and I deal with loss pretty well day to day. But at times it just cripples me and the only thing that could make me feel better is the one thing I never sought out when I had it - a cuddle with my Mum.

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