Mum's Got Cancer; Part Seven

So we have discussed the ins and outs of your funeral.

We have spoken about the type of coffin you want (you said willow originally and now seem happy with a cardboard one). In fact Googling them became quite a fun thing to do - so many to choose from. I have even chosen my own and Alex his (I wonder if there is a bulk option or maybe we can buy flat-packed and store for later use)? I know you want to be scattered so I am ready to order your scatter tube.

I have even looked at Ashes in to Glass - so that we can each have a special "something" to remember you by.

We have spoken of readings and hymns. And ministers. We haven't spoken flowers or donations but I am sure that is yet to come.

We have spoken about how I can let people know of your death and how I am NOT to use the word passed or passing at any point as you really don't like that.

I don't like the phrase "lost their fight" or "given up their fight".

So what to say when the time comes? You have asked me to tell those on Facebook but what about those that are not'? Do people still use papers - do you want people to know?

I can't believe I am writing this and having to think about this but I am forty and I have had the luxury of having you as my mother for all that time and as such I can call myself lucky.

Thank you Mum x

Comments

100 Sad Days: Day 29 La La La

Not all abuse in a relationship is physical. Just like all illnesses are not obvious. Although they are "mental" it doesn't make them any less significant. An Open Letter: Your words are often harsh and I let them float over my head. I know it's not you thinking. It's alcohol, it's tiredness, it's money, it's family, it's drugs, its work, it's whatever excuse I decide to label it with to move on. Sometimes they cut so deep. Putting small cracks in my heart that need love to fill the gaps. When this happens forgiveness takes a little longer. When it is constant the opposite happens and I pull down the shutters. I stop feeling. I stop caring. I am numb. This is when I want to never wake up. And then there are the unforgivable things. The venomous words spat from your mouth. Not in anger. Not in rage. Just in hate and apathy. What do I do with those? Where do I go from there?

LuluSLR: Mum's Got Cancer; Part One

I originally published this post on 13 December 2016, a year before my son was born, and four years ago today. I thought, with the anniversary of Mum's death on the horizon, and with losing two friends to this disease in recent times I would re-publish these posts (minus the fundraising bits for Pancreatic Cancer). I thought long and hard about writing something knowing Mum doesn't like to talk about these things. However I think that everyone now knows and, being selfish: for me this is cathartic. Much like my #100SadDays blog I don't want this to be all doom and gloom. I want to talk about how it has made me feel and how it has affected everyone; including my beautiful mum. I have written about #cancer before; it isn't a new subject for me. I have spoken freely about how I feel about it and how it has affected both me, my family and my friends. I have said that it doesn't "touch" people as so often is coined: it rapes and kills and blights...

LuluSLR: Christmas Letter 2020

I simply cannot remember the last time I wrote a Christmas letter - a tradition I had started and planned to continue throughout my life. Not only was it a toast to Mum (she always wrote a great Christmas Letter) but people always liked to recieve them. Well somewhere along the way I stopped doing them. I know I have posted one as a blog post before and here I am again. It isnt the easy way out but it is a more environmental option (and a good one for someone without access to a printer)! My reason for stopping in the past was that I felt I didnt really have very much to say; my letters always seemed to say the same thing - there was always a drama with work (and this year is no different). However 2020 has been a year that no one will forget and as such I thought I should commemerate it with the return of the Crimbo letter! Just before Christmas last year Alex, the kids and I moved in together to a lovely house in Farnignham. It meant that Christmas ...

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