Alison Louise Dewhurst (nee Snape)

Kyra Marie
2 days ago
3 min read

My mum died when I was 17, exactly one week before her 40th birthday. That was 21 years ago.

And I realise I have no one left in my life who knew her.

The Internet wasn't like it is now when she died. She had no Facebook or online profiles, and there were no phones you could take photos and videos with without even thinking about it Death is shit. I'm sure we're all in agreement on that. But death, when the memories are fading, and the people to share them are gone? That's an extra level of fuck you from the universe. At the time, be it the innocence of youth or the pain, you believe you will never forget. But memory, well, it's kind of a twat, really. The mind tricks you, and before you know it, you're not quite sure if the memory is real or not. After all, memories are only your own recollection of a moment.

I've never been one to post on Facebook ‘to my mum’. No judgment, it's just not felt ‘right’ to me, although sometimes shouting up to the sky doesn't feel right either in retrospect when you're getting odd stares. Each to their own! But today, something shifted in my odd little brain. I didn't want another year to go by where I quietly remember her, so I had a crazy little idea to keep the memories alive: They say once something is on the Internet, it never truly disappears…

Usually that’s meant as a warning, but today it came to me as an idea…. So here we are on what would have been her birthday, creating this page which I can add to:photos, memories…. This is my place for me to remember my mum, to share the memories I have and to send them into the never-forgetting memory of the Internet to live on somewhere.

Perhaps people will read this.

Perhaps they wont.

Maybe someone will stumble upon this rambling post and remember my mum, or maybe it will somehow help someone somewhere. But for now, it doesn't matter, because right now, I'm doing something for me without thinking about anyone else.

Her name was Alison. Here's what I remember.

Cheesy scrambled eggs. The cheesiest ever. Made in a microwave. Served on potato waffles. The ultimate comfort food

Broth, the best broth. I remember one time we had ended up at this rather odd church party thing singing the tune 'Hey baby', but instead of 'I wanna know, if you'll be my girl' we were singing 'I wanna know, if you'll be my God' with our arms waving in the air. I can almost remember the dance. There was one beacon getting us through this strange experience Broth. My mum made the best broth, and she had all the ingredients at home to make it when we got back. But disaster struck as soon as we were home, and the disappointment still lives deep in my soul! My Grandma, whom we were staying with at the time, had decided to make the broth. Worse still, she had made dumplings that turned out to be years out of date. This led to a hilarious conversation with my Grandma blaming my mum for the out-of-date dumplings and my mum pointing out she currently had nothing from home in the divorce, so why would she have brought out-of-date dumplings when she was leaving?