Mum went from well to dead in two weeks. She had backaches for ages, and then started being sick. They said it was pancreatic cancer, and that it was far too advanced to treat. Two weeks after diagnosis, in a hospice, she died. I drifted around shell-shocked. I’ve since learned this foul disease takes no prisonsers and in most cases, by the time it’s diagnosed, it’s already way too late. As you may gather, this is deeply personal, but I feel the need to talk it out.
So, the day of the funeral was shitty beyond words. Mum made it clear no-one was to wear black, so I wore the summer dress she had recently bought me. Back at the house there was a.....a what?......party? Reception? Either way there were a fuck-ton of people there and some I didn’t even know. At one point, I left them all to it and went to my room. I wasn’t tearful, I just needed to be alone. I flopped down on my bed and just thought of mum. We had become really good friends during my puberty, unlike my sister who fought like cat and mouse with her. I thought of the endless chats we had about puberty in general, boys, even girls. Mum was quite open to the fact that either me, my brother, or my sister might be bi, or gay. And of course, masturbation. In fact, it was one of the last chats we had about feeling good. Mum had told me about my clit, my hymen, the whole nine yards, and that masturbation, despite what others might say, is really good for you. I remember my hand drifting up under my dress and over my panties. I didn’t have any dirty images in my mind at all, just that chat with mum....her lovely smiley face, and her radiance that always made me feel that everything would be alright. I felt under my panties to my vagina. I was wet, I remember that. I remember giggling because I thought it was so inappropriate. I’d just buried my mum, and here I was, with wet panties! I found that sensitive little button, and began to toy with it, rubbing it gently in circles. It almost felt like mum was smiling, “Yes Becky....that’s right. That’s YOUR power! Your right. No one can take that away from you, now, climb that stairway, let yourself exult in your body hunny.” I remember the orgasm. It didn’t blast me away as some have done, it rolled over me, almost like an all-enveloping hug. Each wave, each contraction made my vagina weep into the soft cotton of my underwear. I lay there afterwards for a good fifteen minutes before I went back downstairs. I felt......different. Something had happened to my very core. Something in me had changed. I don’t know what it was, but maybe it’s not too fanciful to think it was my mum sending me on my way as an adult. Who knows?
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