Life, the Universe and the Melancholic

My Mum died. Her last breath of life left her at 9.37pm, 8th September. I held her hand and kissed her forehead as she left. I had made a "Mum" playlist of all her favourite songs I could remember. She slipped away listening to the song Could I Have This Dance by Anne Murray. It was hers and Dad's song. The next song that played was Over The Rainbow by Judy Garland. She would sing this to us when we were babies. And then to the grandbabies. They say babies decide when it's time for them come, to be born. My beautiful mother picked her moment to die. She had impeccable timing. If she didn't. It was one hell of an extraordinary coincidence.  I am heartbroken.  Bereft.  Distraught.  Grief stricken. All the words and feelings and states of being that convey loss. Somehow it's still not enough. Two days leading up to Mum dying, I  would go outside in the evening and look at the sky. Silently praying for a miracle. Each night I seen shooting stars...falling stars. I