A down day...again.

Hi,

We haven't spoken before but I'm Lucy and I've found this site really helpful over the last two years since my lovely sister, Sophie, was diagnosed with stage 4 bowel cancer in late 2014. Your post really resonated with me and I just wanted to let you know that I really feel for you. Like you, my sister was a young mum (she had 3 children under the age of ten) and had seemed completely well before her shock diagnosis and the last 20 months have been incredibly hard and harder still when we lost her in early August but there are a few things that we have learnt along the way and also so many mirrors with Sophie's situation and emotions that I felt compelled to reply to you in the hope that it might help a little to know that someone understands.

Firstly, like you, Sophie was deeply fearful, particularly about what the end would look like and she fought and fought against acceptance as if it would somehow hasten her departure. However, I can honestly say that, whilst of course so very sad, her final weeks in the hospice were the most peaceful we have known recently. Hospice care was exemplary, both physically and in terms of emotional support and it enabled her to go from a frightened girl in lots of pain to a more relaxed, in control person who could finally find rest and allow others to take the strain at last. We were all fearful (particularly when her cancer spread to her liver) and didn't believe them when they said that she would simply get more sleepy and drift gradually away but that is exactly what happened and she was still talking to us up until a few hours before she finally went to sleep. Nothing was left unsaid and that means so very much to those of us left behind.I suppose what I'm saying is that, had we fully believed this level of peacefulness would be possible, we might well have been less fearful. I don't know whether you're getting any support from your local hospice yet but I would recommend them wholeheartedly to anyone in this dreadful situation. They were also a wonderful support for her children and husband.

Sophie's husband was also very fearful of how he would cope and this frustrated and saddened her in equal measure. However, again, he has coped amazingly. Alright, the house may not always look quite as she'd have left it etc. but he's doing okay and so are her children. Her name is spoken freely on a daily basis and her children have a lovely photo of her with a little letter that she wrote to each of them tucked behind it. They kiss it every night and wish her goodnight and this seems to help them a little.

Like you, Sophie alternated between being absolutely desolate and the incredibly angry at the thought of leaving her job as a mum undone. She didn't want them to know how ill she was as she wanted their lives to go on as normally as possible for as long as possible And, whilst we worried about the lack of preparation for what was coming, we all understood her decision. Again though, when the time came for them to be told as she was deteriorating quickly, we were amazed at their capacity to understand and at how much they had already understood but felt anxious to ask about. There was yet another sense of openness and peace that followed and I honestly think that it helped Sophie to let go to know that they understood how much she loved them and that she didn't want to go but that she would always love them and them her. Sophie said that she wished she'd told them sooner as the honesty enabled lots of very important conversations to happen and I know that my nephews are still holding on to her words in their sadness.

we are,of course,  still heartbroken as your lovely family will be. But we are doing ok. Sometimes we stuff and up, argue or get frustrated but only because we loved her and want her back. What I do know already, and it's been just a few weeks so far, is that her children will be okay. They are slowly learning to live differently but they are doing alright and we will be there to catch them on the days when they  are not and this will be the same for your lovely children.

Finally, the inscription planned for her headstone simply says, 'Her love will light our way' and, whatever the coming months will bring, I know it's hard to believe it now but your love will light your family's way too and will continue to do so forever because nothing can or will change how much you love them and the love they have known. Think of it as stored treasure and I'm sure that you're childrn have already known more than many people will know in a lifetime. Cancer is indeed a bastard but it cannot steal that.

I hope you don't mind me writing to you. l just wanted you to know that, however impossible it seems right now,  your beautiful children will, ultimately,  be okay. I send you every possible bit of strength that I can muster for the coming months. 

With lots of love to you and your family,

Lucy x

Thank you lucy.

Thank you for sharing your very personal story with me, it has given me comfort.

I'm so very sorry that others are and have gone through this. It's awful but hopefully others that come along later won't feel so alone when they are able to read our stories xxx

Lucy, what a beautifully written response to a lovely lady who is having such a difficult time xx

Hi Blueeric

I have followed your blog and I do hope you are wrong in what you are thinking. Your bravery shines through to us all and I hope you keep fighting against this awful disease. Please keep on blogging and talking as my hubby was taken from me three weeks after becoming terminal and he didn't talk about it at all or how he felt which made things even more difficult.

Lucy what a lovely supportive reply sharing such a personal story.

Best wishes x