*This blog has been left, not because I forgot or not because I was too busy.. But because I knew what was coming next... The hardest part is knowing people are reading this, and that not one or two people, but several people have asked me not to stop the blog.. so with them and my continuing journey.. this.. is the next step.
My earliest memories are fogged.. I have glimpses into my youth occasionally.. flash backs from a time when things I thought were easier. I have smells of playschool... play doh and crayons... poster paint and that strange almost sour milk smell that will bring me right back to my childhood.. stood in the hall, holding my mums hand.. her guiding me to go play.. My Independence had begun...
I recall summer days of playing in the garden with one of the numerous dogs we had, or peat and lolly sticks and water... winter nights of snuggling with my mum and smells of oranges and brandy.. somewhere along the way, my baby brother came along.. I don't think he was as much of an impact on my life then as people would imagine... I doted on him then as I do now.. but now at 6ft I have to admit to looking up to him, in more ways than I can begin to explain.
He just fitted right in along side the general life of the household... when he was old enough it was the pair of us that mum had to deal with.. skimmed knees and grazed hands from the many karts or dens we tried building.. there were many days we'd get into bother.. and we were patched up and sent on our way, by our endlessly worried mum..
My brother and I had our own paths.. and we trod them tirelessly.. My path was more of a maze.. and led me into so many journeys that would take more time than I care to give to explain them all away !! I had no path... On my first day of school.. I was given new books... inside each cover was carefully written this...
Your future lies before you,
like a path of driven snow,
Be careful how you tread it,
for every step will show.
My mum, taught me this poem, and if only I knew then what I know now, my path maybe would of taken a very different direction.
But.. as it turns out.. I have but a few regrets.. I was sent to boarding school at the tender age of 12. To this day, I will never truly understand why.. but I knew that somewhere between 7 and 12.. things went wrong at home.. I used to wake up in the middle of the night hearing my mum and step dad fight.. I'd hear the door and I felt the most unimaginable panic rip through me, I'd run to the window and see her walking away, I'd scream.. she'd hear and come right back... This was a regular occurrence and it has imprinted firmly on my mind even now as an adult. My mum and I drifted apart, or maybe it was me that drifted... can you drift at that age ??
Boarding school, is another story.. But I began to grow.. to listen to my guide, and to rebel against everything that was thrown at me. I was not the same as the people I went to school with, I was not rich.. I was not a princess..
(this was after all, A very private, very elite school)
I was not one of the 1200 girls.. I was.. in fact in my element !!
But I saw my mum little in the 3 years I was there. I grew to be fiercely defencive of my friends which I still Carry to this day, I became an independent growing child at 12, 13 and 14... I strived to be the best, I excelled in sports, I played for the county, in games other kids would never have the chance to do, I played for the county in Archery, rounders and finally I was a year away from Olympic grading in Fencing... I was making something of myself.
Then I slipped, through reasons that will be explained some other time.. I was caught having underage sex.. consensual I will point out.. and was asked not to return to the school next term. I was not expelled, I was merely asked to leave.
So.. a 14 year old, well spoken, sexually aware, independent girl arrived back home, to be put into a public day school, with all the people I had grown up with as a child. This was never going to be an easy transition.
But at home... my mum took it all, the anger, the resentment, the phases I went through, all this and bringing up my brother at the same time.
My mum and I were never friends, we never talked, there was an unspoken agreement, as soon as it was feasibly legal, I would find my own place.. until then you are stuck with me !!!
I don't know what it was like living through all this from the outside, I never asked my brother, or my step father or even my grand parents, at the time, I assumed I was just "in the way".
I didn't wait for legality to get in my way, by 15 i was sleeping with my mums best friend and moved in with her.
To this day, I have no idea what kind of an impact this had on anyone in my family.. It lasted a couple of years and then I moved on. My mum and I had begun to build bridges, she was now with my real father of whom I have never and will never have any kind of relationship with. But despite his jealousy over my mum and I's ever growing friendship, we became friends again, and in good time, because it was shortly after that I fell in love and kaz became my right hand. I had an ally at last.. and in time, my mum took kaz as her own and our friendship became stronger.
As much I had my own pre set path to wander, at this point in my life I strived for my mum to be proud of me, she didn't know half of what was achieved at school, but i wanted her to be proud that I was me, proud of my ever growing relationship for kaz. Because of this almost obsessive want or need for my mums pride in me, I never went far from home.. until now.. I had to make a choice in a split second, and I made the choice. I had to go to Ireland with Kaz to fight custody of her children. There was no hesitation. It was and has been the biggest thing I have ever had to do in my life. And it was the turning point in my path of life.
It was in hindsight the best thing I could ever do. During the few years of being In Ireland we went through a lot, from our house being destroyed by fire, from court battles as a regular thing, following the 4 year story of custody In Northern Ireland, in itself will one day make a book.. but when we all returned to England, children and all.. My mum was my best friend. And this was to get stronger as the years went on. We talked, we shared we laughed and we loved. When she lost her mum, it was me she wanted by her side. I could reach her, where others failed. She was my mum and I would protect her from anything and anyone. After my youth, I felt I owed her more than I could ever give.
This time.. (September/October) 5 years ago.. My mum changed.
She became increasingly confused, signed her texts off with her name, rather than mum, called me to tell me she was miles from home, when I knew she was tucked up at home.
My dad for the first time, asked for my help.
I remember after he talked to me, that things weren't right with my mum.. I recall sat at the table pleading with her in tears, to see a doctor.. it was then in her eyes, I saw her fear, I saw she knew something was wrong.
Within days she had been to the doctors, and was then sent straight to yeovil Hospital, within hours to be sent to Frenchay... This was serious, Frenchay specialised in neurological problems.
I don't know the order of things from here on in, I don't remember dates/times/places...
I remember visiting everyday without fail, and sitting with my mum, talking about everything and nothing.
I know she was getting worse.. I was asked by the nurses to see if I could get my mum to lie still for a scan, as they just couldn't do it. It was hard talking to my mum like a child, and through choked up tears, I convinced her to do it.. I held her hand through the scan.
The things we think of at the strangest of times sometimes make no sense, it was as she climbed off the bed, that her gown dropped, and I saw my mum naked for the first time since I was a baby.. It didn't shock me that she was naked, or that this was my mum, what shocked me was that she didn't react.. to her in her state this was normal. I covered her back up and put her back in her bed.
Days later, my father and I were called to the hospital.. at this time, my father and I had built a strange kind of relationship.. in all things.. he was hurting for the woman he loved, and that woman was my mum.
We were taken into a small room, and I knew at the time, that in all the hospital shows I've ever watched, this is where they tell you something bad. But I brushed it aside and barely remember the words he said.. Brain tumour.. we cant operate.. weeks... maybe.
Life blurred.. this was my mum.. my best friend.. He had to be wrong. There had to be a mistake.
I didn't break down, I didn't cry. I left the room and went to my mum, hugged her, told her I loved her, and that I'd see her tomorrow.
I got into my car.. which at the time was a prelude high speed sports car.. and I hit the motorway like I had the devil behind me. And I drove. I drove like I had no future, like I had no past. Then I stopped, and then I cried. And I never really stopped crying.
Mum stayed there for a while so they could monitor the tumour. Then she was moved to a hospice nearer to home. I hated this.. it was a place people came to die. and I truly despised my father for having her put there.
It became my every living and breathing hell.
I visited, I hated seeing my mum slowly lose her grip on everything. She no longer had the smooth shaved legs she used to, so I shaved them, and it has to of been the strangest thing I've ever done, almost surreal. Her nails were cut shaped, I knew people around me were trying to help.. It was as if they sensed/knew that she wasn't the person she used to be. I was losing her.
From here on it, we had time blocks.. would she make it to my brothers birthday? Oct 30. would she make it to mine?Nov 28. Christmas.. New year.. her birthday Jan 19th ????
She was moved out of the hospice and back home, where she was cared for by my father and carers came in twice daily to assist in things, administer drugs and suchlike..
On the 9th January, at about midday, I was out with Karen shopping, Over the course of the past months I had learnt for my own sanity that I needed to take a break from visiting my mum..and one day a week, I'd fight the heavy burden of guilt and stay away, Personally I don't think it helped me any, but today was one of these days where I agreed, that I didn't want to go visit.
Karen had other plans, she said we should go. Someone somewhere had plans.
As I walked through the door, I saw my mums face and I knew.. People will often say they know.. and I never believed them.. Until this point in my life.
She struggled for breath, It was almost like she waited..
I held her hand, told her it was OK, I told her I loved her.
At 1pm Jan 9th 2007.
My mum, My best friend,took her last breath.
5 years have past, and that day and the months leading to that day will forever remain burnt into my every memory.
I have learnt to fight my own battles.
I have learnt to appreciate life/nature and all that it holds.
I have inherited many qualities, I can craft, I can cook.
I can love, forgive and grieve.. even now.
My mum gave me the gift of life, and I choose not to waste it or have anyone tell me how to live it.
I have become the woman my mum would be proud of.
