My Mum's Laugh

Today, I realised I can’t remember the sound of my mum’s laugh.

In those final years, laughter was rare. Mental illness clouded her mind, Alzheimer’s gradually stole her joy, and cancer took hold of her body. It seems that in those painful last chapters, laughter wasn't something we could share.

Reflecting now, I wish I had captured more moments such as photos, videos, voice recordings, even if at the time it felt uncomfortable. With Alzheimer’s, I struggled ethically. Unable to consent to being filmed or photographed. Would she want to be remembered that way? 

Today, though, I'm faced with the painful realisation that I can’t recall the exact sound of her laugh. And that hurts more deeply than I imagined.

I share this because, if you're navigating a similar journey, consider documenting all the moments big and small. Write letters, record voices, film gentle conversations, capture the ordinary and the meaningful. Someday, these precious memories might comfort you in unexpected ways.