Growing up my life was pretty normal. Me, mother and father lived together in a detached four bedroom house in the beautiful countryside. The outside of the house was covered in ivy. The green enchantment wrapped its arms around the stone, cobbled walls adding beauty to the home. The wooden door was made of strong dark brown oak, my father, Gerald, had carved it himself, he spent his youth doing wood work with his own father, James.
I would spend my days looking after the horses and in the evenings I would indulge in reading. Fiction, non fiction, poetry, autobiographies, Shakespeare. I would happily read anything that was thrown my way. My mother,Theresa, would often criticise me for spending so much time reading but, I simply didn't pay any attention to her. It provided an escape, allowed me to explore different world's never before heard of, I loved it.
We would often take a trip to Oldham woods which was about 20 minutes away from our home, a beautiful river runs right through the centre and in the moonlight the surface glistens. When I was a little girl my mother would often tell me stories about how it was magical and on a full moon the river would bubble and if anyone stepped into the river at this time, they would be gifted with powers. Sadly, me being my silly 7 year old self I believed it and I now know it not to be true. I always enjoyed our trip to the woods, appreciating the beauty of nature and the earth that we live on, the picnic that my mother would prepare for us all, I still hear her voice even now asking us what we wanted put in.
*6 years ago*
"Maia, what would you like in your sandwiches? Ham with coleslaw or our home made blackberry jam?
"I'm not fussed mum, either - I like both"
"I'm not fussed doesn't help in the slightest Maia, it leaves us in the same position - would you be happy if I did a couple of each for you?"
"Yeah sure mum, but I can't eat four sandwiches, do one with ham and coleslaw and one with blackberry jam"
"Don't be silly Maia, we will be there all day - I don't want you to starve."
Sighing I replied "just do how ever many you want, but don't complain at me when I can't eat them all."
Still reminiscing I can remember my father placing a small kiss on my mothers neck while she would be occupied spreading the butter on the bread.
"What fruit are we taking darling?" My fathers voice was always delicate and pure when speaking to my mother, every word was subtle and gentle.
"I bought grapes and a few bananas and I hand picked some strawberries too they are in the fridge"
"Sounds delightful." Placing another kiss on her cheek, he turned and walked over to me. Ruffling up my hair with his bear sized hands, he flashed me an overly sized grin and grabbed me by my waist and hoisted me into his arms.
"Are you excited M?"
I nodded in excitement, he placed me down and put a kiss on my forehead and exited the room to get the blankets ready to take with us.
Taking a deep breath I could feel the tears building as I remember the fond memories I shared with my mother and father as they both meant the world to me. I never expected that 3 years after that moment that my mother would be taken from me and my fathers once gentle hands would inflict so much pain upon my skin.