Mummascribbles – A senseless killing of a beautiful mummy – Mummascribbles

Yesterday afternoon came the terrible news of the attack on Jo Cox, MP. I followed the story throughout the afternoon and when I was on the train home, the notification from Sky News came through on my phone saying that she had died of her injuries. I had hoped, even though I didn’t think it was possible, that she would somehow pull through, but knowing her injuries included both gun and stab wounds, I knew that it would be an absolute miracle for her to survive.

When I read the news of her death, it got me. It really, really got me. I had to force back the tears, take deep breaths and stop reading because if there is one place that I really don’t want to cry, it’s on the train home! I made it without breaking down in public and remained calm until I was in the car, a minute from nursery and the 6pm news came on the radio. This news had an update which was a statement from her husband.

Today is the beginning of a new chapter in our lives. More difficult, more painful, less joyful, less full of love. I and Jo’s friends and family are going to work every moment of our lives to love and nurture our kids and to fight against the hate that killed Jo.  Jo believed in a better world and she fought for it every day of her life with an energy, and a zest for life that would exhaust most people. She would have wanted two things above all else to happen now, one that our precious children are bathed in love and two, that we all unite to fight against the hatred that killed her. Hate doesn’t have a creed, race or religion, it is poisionous.

Jo would have no regrets about her life, she lived every day of it to the full.

That statement made me burst into tears. I turned the radio down, calmed down (I was trying to drive after all) and carried on up the road. Then I thought again about his words. “She would have wanted two things above all else to happen now, one that our precious children are bathed in love…”, and I burst into tears again. How I composed myself before I got out of the car and walked into nursery, I do not know.

It’s not often that something in the news makes me cry. There has been an awful lot of horrible news just recently but this is the first that has made me shed tears, real emotional tears.

Ok, so yes, I am pregnant and therefore my emotions are far more excessive than they would usually be. But the reason why this hit me so hard is because I am a mum, just like her. I am a working mum, just like her. I have a young child just like her and I have no doubt that one of her biggest fears, like mine, was the thought of not seeing her beautiful children grow up and them not having their mummy around.

And that fear came true for her.

Last night, two little girls aged 3 and 5 had to go to sleep without saying goodnight to their mummy. Without having a bedtime story, a goodnight kiss and a snuggle with their mummy.

A husband had to explain to those two little girls that their mummy wasn’t coming home. That she was never coming home.

Did they cry out in the night for her, like Zach sometimes does for me, not remembering that she was no longer there?

Did they wake up this morning expecting to see her face?

Did they think that mummy would be taking them off to nursery and school for the day whilst she went to work?

Do they in any way understand the extent of what has happened? How long will they take to realise that mummy isn’t coming home? How many tears will be shed every time they remember that they are never going to see their mummy again?

All of these thoughts, they are going round in my head all of the time. My heart is absolutely aching for those children and aching for her husband who is having to look at a very different life ahead of him. A different life from the one that he was living just yesterday morning.

And all because of a completely senseless killing.

A horrific, brutal killing that happened whilst she was just going about her daily duties. Doing a job she loved, a job that helped, a job that she carried out whilst no doubt wondering what her lovely children were doing.

When It happened, did she know that she wasn’t going to make it?

Were her last thoughts that she wasn’t going to see her children again. That they would have to grow up without her in their lives. Was she wondering how long it would be before they forgot her voice, forgot what she was like. That they were so young, there may be a chance that when they are older, they will have no real memories of her? Did she call for them, sob for them, or was it so instant that there was no time for her to suffer these thoughts alongside the pain?

I wrote a post a long time ago about my own fear of not seeing Zach grow up. It is a huge fear and is no doubt why I have been so affected by the death of this lady. Someone I don’t know. Someone I have never and probably would never have met in my life. But someone that I can relate to so closely and that I cannot help but feel her pain, feel her fear and shed a tear (or several) for her and her beautiful family who now have to learnt to live without her.

Last night when I sat with Zach as he fell asleep, I gave him the biggest cuddles. I gave him an excessive amount of kisses to the point where he actually moaned at me. I stroked his head, I took in all of him, from his little toes, his long legs, his beautiful neck and the face that makes my heart melt every day. I told him I loved him, that I would always love him and I gave him another kiss on his cheek whilst he slept, before I snuck off downstairs. When I went to bed and checked on him, I stayed a moment longer than I normally would have, to take in his beauty. Because at that moment, I felt lucky that I could do all of those things. The things that Jo Cox will never be able to do again.