LuluSLR: Mum's Got Cancer; Part Two (originally publsihed 9 January 2017)

Sometimes I think I have got it all together and that I am going to be OK. Other times I find myself crying as I am driving along. And there are times like now I can feel my stomach churning and my entire body shouting "I'm not ready yet".

I have had the pragmatic conversations. We have spoken wills and funeral services. I have even looked at coffins and scatter tubes. I know where Mum wants her ashes to be scattered and the type of hymns she likes. I have asked if I could read a poem and if my daughter can attend. I can do all of this but I cannot accept that it is going to happen.

I can say that Mum has had a good life and had the opportunity to travel. That we, as a family, have had more years than we thought we would be graced with. Never did we imagine Mum could fight off the MS as she has done.

Never in a million years did we see this happening and am I ready for it? Am I heck as like. I feel like I have to keep on reminding Mum how much I love her and how much she means to me. Asking (and hoping) that I have done her proud.

I didn't realise until I had Eliza how much a mother actually loves their child and how much they give up to ensure their little one's don't have hardship.

I would, in return, do all I could to take the pain away and make sure Mum gets to do all the things she wants to do. I would wish myself closer to her.

I want to relish in her funny stories and laugh at her silliness. Listen to her interpretations of things and hear her sing out of tune. I want my Mum and I don't want to let go; not yet.....

Comments

Mum's Got Cancer; Part Four

Can we ask just one thing of you:- Please stop asking me how Mum is. I know you mean well and you honestly do care; you want to know that she is ok: but we can't tell you that. In fact we are tired of having to repeat ourselves and remind ourselves that Mum isn't going to get better. That this is it. That we can't help her but can on;y make her comfortable. Maybe ask how I am, or if there is anything you can do, or just give us a hug. Maybe just squeeze our shoulder and don't say anyhting. If we want to talk, I promise, we will. Sometimes, like my Blog, it is cathartic. Other times it hurts in a way I cannot explain. The best thing to do is send a message, a text, an email, and if/when we feel like it we will respond. Forgive us if we see you are calling and cannot take your call. It is tiring, emotionally, to drag our way through a conversation we do not want to have. We know you care and we don't want to appear rude but...

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Mum's Got Cancer; Part Eight

We have always been open and talked about death and funerals. I think one of the first things we spoke about after your diagnosis was about your funeral and the scattering of your ashes. Some people think it's macabre but I do it to prepare myself. The more I do now the less I HAVE to do later. We know your wishes and we have the addresses. I have your scatter tube and soon your order of service. I know what I will read and that Rachel won't be able to. But I don't want them; I want you. The promise of you, not forever, just for longer. Don't go yet Mum, please, stay a while x

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