Goodbye Mum

Banksy - Always Hope

After I posted that my mum was going into a hospice I recieved so many words of support, here and in my offline life, all of them perfect in their own way, despite people's pleas that they didn't know what to say. Thank you.

My amazing mum died in the hospice on Thursday 27th January 2011.  She was peaceful and we were with her.  The hospice was amazing, mum's care was fantastic, but they also care for relatives too.  It doesn't make it less sad, but it makes it calmer.

I could write a million blog posts on the experiences of the last few weeks, one will never do it justice.

My mum was amazing and inspirational. She was so thoughtful, so interested in everyone she met. She was so positive despite cancer. She taught me a million and one things which I've been scribbling down furiously.

My friend sent me this Banksy as a card, its the image my parents also sent me for my birthday card last year (cool parents huh?)  It reminded me my mum used to read to me from a book about a French boy with a magic red ballon. It's a book based on a film from her child hood.  I read it to her last week.  At the end the little boy floats off in a bunch of ballons.

I wish I could give the four year old this image of Gran drifting away in a bunch of ballons, but I read up and everything points to honesty.  We read Goodbye Mousie and Always and Forever.  Miss L is stunning us all with her understanding and sensitivity.  I'm not sure about taking her to the funeral (a humanist ceremony) but I know she needs something.  I would love to hear about any experiences with this age group.

One of the things my mum taught me was the importance of rites of passage, that I could create my own ceremonies and rituals if I wanted.  I didn't want to go to my PGCE degree ceremony after feeling like part of a herd of cattle at my first degree ceremony.  Instead we walked on Devil's Dyke and she made me a daisy chain headdress and told me how proud she was.  Little things like that keep popping into my head, reminding me what an absolutely amazing woman she was.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart,

and you shall see that in truth you are weeping

for that which has been your delight.

Kahil Gibran

On Brilliance and Bravery

Not quite sure what  to do with this week.  'A sad happy day in the Alexander Residence' I think I tweeted.  Here is the only way I have found to explain it, a bleat from behind the tweet...

I want to say a huge thanks for the votes and the award.   I couldn't believe I was nominated, never mind winning the Fresh Voice category.  I am surrounded by brilliance at every turn, constantly in awe of amazing blogs.

The award was a lovely shiny beacon of happiness in a week which has been one of the worst in my life.  My mum has brain cancer.  I haven't blogged about this, because the blog is one of my coping mechanisms.  Last week she was admitted to hospital, became very sleepy and today, for the first time, the word hospice was spoken.  She has put up an amazing fight against a very aggressive form of cancer.  I have had a lot longer to come to terms with this than I thought I would, two and a half years.

I haven't been blogging very long, but I feel hugely supported by this community.  I am surrounded by so much brilliance.   Blogging and tweeting help to keep me going, the jokes, the banter.  Which is why I have been avoiding talking about cancer here, I don't want to alter things.   But then it became like a huge bubble of subtext which was ready to burst.  Sad news is weird, people stop talking to you.  I feel like I am taking a gamble here....Please please keep talking to me.  I have stumbled on new blogs before when people have been going through bad times and not been sure if it was invading.  You're not. 

I may be a bit raw, all over the place but I intend to blog through this.   Probably more about the normal stuff than the bad stuff, because that's how I deal with it.  My good friend whose sister lived through cancer told me cancer needs a box, you can take it out of the box, explore it, think about it, cry about it, but then it has to go back in the box. 

Dedicating the award to My Mum x