Saying Goodbye To Mum

I've known for a while now that one day I'd have to write this post. Well not have to, but feel the need to. I don't know if any of you noticed but I haven't blogged in nearly a month now, and that's because sadly my mum passed away on the 8th of May. I haven't planned this post or anything, I've been putting off writing it but I feel like I should pay tribute to her really, and I want to be able to look back and know exactly how I felt, and I have always referred to blogging as my online diary. I doubt many people will read this, I'm not putting this post out there or anything and I'll probably just look back on this myself. So this post will be a ramble and might not make much sense. But if there is anyone going through something similar, let me know because I'd like to know how you have dealing with it.

So here's my story I guess.

I remember the day my mum told me she was going to the doctors because she'd found a lump. It was October and I was 14 and about to go to a McFly signing with a couple of my friends at HMV. She told me not to worry, that it wouldn't be anything bad. Of course the word "cancer" flooded my mind, it was that awful disease that you always heard a friend of a friend had. Fast forward a couple of weeks and I was getting ready for a Halloween sleepover I was having with my best friend, and we could hear my mum talking on the phone to her mum, we knew what was going on, I could tell my the tone of her voice that it wasn't good, but we just glanced at each other and didn't say anything. The next day mum sat me down and told me. That was the first time I'd seen her cry, we cried together on the sofa. Then I remember going upstairs and writing my essay on war poetry for English class that was due in a couple of days, my dad came in and gave me the first hug he'd given me in years, you always know something really really bad or good has happened if you get a hug off my dad.

Mum had chemotherapy and a mastectomy which seemed to work and I think there was about a year, maybe longer, where she was all clear. But the cancer came back, it was metastatic. People with metastatic breast cancer can live for a number of years after being diagnosed, but there is no cure and it's a case of staying one step ahead of the disease. I didn't actually know any of this when it was happening though, my parents did keep me in the dark, which I guess was in my best interest looking back, but it does make me feel naive. Mum would always tell me that there was nothing to worry about, and that any treatment she was having was "just a precaution". The one good thing was that she was never that ill when she was having treatment, there were some horrible side effects don't get me wrong, but she had energy and she didn't feel constantly sick or have headaches or anything so we could live our lives quite normally.

Well until September. Two weeks before I got back from America mum went into hospital again because she had been falling over a lot and struggling to walk. The finally took her in until they found out the reason, but she didn't tell me this until a week before I came home from America. When I came back she was in hospital another couple of weeks before she was allowed home. I knew something was very wrong, when your mum can no longer walk it can't be good can it? Another couple of weeks passed an I had started my new job, I remember coming home one day and she told me she had something to tell me and it wasn't nice. I burst into tears then because I knew what she was going to say.

She had six months. She was reasonably ok until November, we managed to get out with her in the wheelchair, she would have bad days where she felt really ill and slept most of the day but her personality was still there and she was still my mum. She even made it to my graduation in November. But that was to be our last family outing. Shortly after that she took a funny turn and ended up in hospital. She had started saying strange things and wasn't with it at all. Her condition had worsened and we needed to get her hospital bed moved downstairs because she could no longer manage using the stairlift, and we had to sort out carers coming twice a day to look after her. We cared for her as much as we could at home but she could hardly move by this point so she needed specialist care. After then it just got worse and worse. I slowly watched her slip away from us, piece by piece. She was so confused and she would say strange things and sometimes even cruel things which I know she didn't mean at all. It was a mixture of the drugs and the cancer. She wasn't happy anymore, I rarely saw her smile and she when she got really ill she slept 95% of the day and only woke up when we made her eat. We got the occasional nice, normal moments with her, but as time went on these became less and less. I think the hardest part for me was when she would forget how ill she was and say "when I'm better we will do this.." that broke my heart.

The thing is I was grieving for my mum months before she died. Because my mum was gone, she was replaced by this frail and unhappy woman that I didn't even recognise and I knew she was never coming back. And that was really hard to deal with considering a lot of my friends didn't even know what was happening, or if they did, very few of them understood how bad it was. When she did die there was a part of me that was relieved. It was still horrendous because it was really final and it suddenly sinks in that this is it, she's not getting better, she's gone. And I'm just so so angry that she had to go that way. The cancer could have spread in another way that wouldn't have completely disabled her and prevented us from enjoying our last months together. I'm so angry that such an amazing and beautiful woman who was nothing but nice was made to suffer so much. If there is a God, I'll never forgive Him for that. No one deserves to go that way.

I hear so many people say "I don't know what I would do without my mum" and I was that girl. But here I am, still here, without my mum. I think I'm so used to being sad now that it doesn't really feel that bad, because I'm just used to it, if that makes sense? I'm not depressed, I don't want to take my own life or anything, but I am sad. I think when I am (finally) happy again it will be a massive shock because I've forgotten what it feels like to just feel content with life. Of course I have happy moments, but there's always that sadness lingering.

I always like to find the good in bad situations, and my mum really did have the best carers we could have asked for. They were so lovely and you always hear these horror stories but those two women were amazing. We still talk to them now and I genuinely miss seeing them every day, they made a hard time so much more bearable. My dad and I are closer now too because of what we've been through. Me and my mum were always best friends and would do everything together and I would always confide in her. But because she could no longer be that person for me I've had to rely on my dad more which has made us closer. I think we also realised how strong we both are and appreciate and respect each other a lot more now. My friends have also been really supportive and I've been seeing the girls a lot more lately which has been so nice. I've definitely learnt who my true friends are.

I don't really feel like writing my usual beauty posts at the moment, although I do have some products lined up to review, which I'm sure I'll get round to writing about eventually, I think for now it will be more lifestyle and motivational posts etc. I'm going to blog when it makes me feel happy, but my routine of posting on Saturdays and Wednesdays might not be back in place for a while because I don't want to feel under any pressure.

Something very exciting did happen this weekend however, and if you follow me on Instagram you will know what it was! That will be my next post :).

I'll leave you with some of my favourite photos xx