Where the hell do I start?
My boyfriend and I where the last people to speak to my mum alive. As we were going downstairs, my dad crossed us. He gave her a kiss and stood up to close the curtains, when he turned round again, she'd gone. I have never heard a human make the noise he made. It haunts me to this day.
After that, a steady stream of officials were coming in and out the house; Dr, nurses, police, funeral director etc.
Before they took her away I went upstairs with my sister and we lifted her head up, took the clip out of her hair and cut some of it for us to keep. We tidied her hair up again and made her comfy, closed her eyes and her mouth and kissed her goodbye. By that point she was cold and grey. My mum had gone.
Or had she? For days after there were some really weird things going on at several people's houses. That all stopped after around 3 days and is a story for another day.
The funeral was beautiful. We had Kate Bush - Lionheart going in and Alter Bridge - Wonderful Life going out. I did my speech and it went well. The flowers my dad chose for mum were absolutely amazing. The funeral and wake was a very strange day and I don't really remember much. What I do remember was the amount of people there. They couldn't all fit in and there were cars everywhere! I remember bursting into tears and feeling incredibly moved when I saw them.
The day after my mum died we started clearing her stuff out. Dad felt suffocated by it and wanted it all gone. Me and my sister saved the important stuff and put it in a box for him to look at another time. We went through her incredible bead collection and books, dvds etc whilst dad and her best friend sat and sorted out all the paperwork.
Alot of people said we did this too soon but I disagree. We've still got all the important things and the things that count. Getting rid of it all early has saved us a world of pain later on. I'm greatful to dad for making us do it now (not gonna lie, I really didn't want to do it.).
After a solid week of clearing things out, I now have an incredible amount of mum's bits and bobs, clothes, plants and furniture all over my house which has helped me immensly. I feel like I'm incorporating her life into my own and brings me a great deal of comfort. The things I can't look at right now have been stored away in a special box until I can bear to look at them.
I was back in work a week after she died because sitting around the house was doing my head in. Everybody I've spoken to has said how amazingly I'm coping and they just can't believe it and how strong I am when in all honesty it's because I am still in a deep state of shock. I'm functioning exactly as I was before and if you came into my shop at work and saw how I was behaving, you'd have no idea my mum has just died. Sometimes as soon as I step out of the doors at work I've burst into tears before I've got to the other side of the car park, but this only lasts around a minute and then it goes again. This happens at least once a day. But it's only for a brief moment.
It feels very strange. Almost completeley impossible to comprehend, and you always think that when it happens to you, you'll know how to react. But you don't. I still have no idea how to react. It still feels like I could pick up the phone right now and ring her. I feel very strange, and I'm going to be taking myself and my sister to the doctors soon.
My dad on the other hand has been absolutely battered by life right now. I'm saving this for another blog post entirely, but a few days after the funeral, a pipe burst in the bathroom and completely gutted the kitchen and the bathroom and we nearly lost the house. He said to me at one point that he just wanted to get in his car and drive away and never come back. A few days later he said the same thing, only to just drive off a cliff. And the state of mind he was in, we believed him. He has had very little time to grieve and it's only now that the floors been concreted in that he's started getting really upset about mum. My sister and I have basically been on suicide watch. Bear in mind this girl is 17 years old.
To the point where he went to see my mum's oncologist on Friday afternoon. He wanted answers. Turns out no, there's nothing we could have done. And it wasn't helped by the fact that she had kept her lump secret from us for, wait for it - at least 7 months.
So now we all have to deal with the fact that my mum had been carrying around with this in her body, and knowing it, and being scared for SEVEN MONTHS. We're not angry with her. We can't put ourselves in her position, and we can't say what we'd do in that situation, but for God's sake. She could still be here. We could have had more time. She must have been so scared.
I have decided to take my sister and I to get checked for the chances of us getting cancer. If there's the slightest chance, or if I have the gene, I'm having them removed. Get the damn things off my body before they tear more of my life apart.
If you ask me how I am, I'll say I'm fine. And that's because I am. But I don't feel like I should be and I have a feeling in my chest like a big ball and I can't get it out.
I have also made this blog because it saves me having to tell the same story over and over again.
I'm more than happy to talk about this as you can probably tell, so if you've got anything to ask or anything to say, just ask.
