The story of a 12 year old cake…


Hey everyone,

Welcome back to crazy little things! I hope everyone is doing ok and if you are not, well that is ok too because you don’t have to be ok all the time as you are only human. So this is my last post as a person in their twenties. I have been feeling lost in life recently and it has nothing really to do with turning thirty, it has more to do with that my life has had a lot going on over the past few years. It has been turned upside down and back again, many times, no wonder I feel so disorientated, things have never had a chance to settle before another battle began. So now I am approaching 30 years old tomorrow and honestly, my life is a bit of a mess but I am hopeful that this mess will eventually be a building block for me to get my shit back on track.

Last year I did a post for my birthday about what I had learned in the past year. This year I am going to do something different. I am going to tell you a story about a 12-year-old cake…

There is a cake that has gone everywhere with me these past 12 years, every time I was kicked out of my house or I moved, this cake has come with me. There has been so many times I have had funny looks off partners or friends when they see this cake in my cupboard. The thing is it isn’t just a cake, it is a memory, a representation of love from a person who meant the world to me.
The cake is my 18th birthday cake that my nan made 12 years ago. Unfortunately, my nan unexpectantly passed not long after and I felt that I couldn’t cut the cake it was the only physical thing I had left from her. She would go mad at me for that decision as she made a cake for people to eat and enjoy not to sit in a fucking cupboard for 12 years. I have loved this cake I have even sat and hugged this cake over these past few years. It served me comfort and it also has been a harsh reminder that she is not here.
So since I am turning 30 years old tomorrow I have made the decision that I am ready to let go of the cake, well kind of. Tomorrow I am going to cut a square piece out and put it in my freezer to be part of my wedding cake for when I get married one day and then the rest of it is going to be buried in my garden. I know this sounds so fucking bizarre to bury a cake but to me its closure, she loved gardening and now in a weird way she will be part of my garden.
After 12 years its time to just hold on to the memories and maybe talk to her picture now and then. The cake has held up pretty well through these last 12 years, the icing is not in the best shape but it’s a fruit cake underneath and we all know how long those can last. Also, check me out I have had cake in my house for the last 12 years and not eaten it, hmm maybe I do have some will power when it comes to food!


Take care,
Vixxy Rose


2 thoughts on “The story of a 12 year old cake…

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