Bereaved mother, writing it all down
When I think of the people who have made a difference in my life and with whom I don’t share DNA, Pauline is definitely up there. She was my Mum’s best friend and one of the very few people I have known my entire life. This week I went to her funeral. This was written … Read more
The fact that New Year comes so hard and fast after Christmas seems unnecessary and unfair. There are a couple of days to catch your breath, mainly fuelled by pastry, and then on we go. Christmas weighs heavy, overloaded with nostalgia and ghosts of Christmas past. Everywhere is hanging with memories of those we love … Read more
When I was a child, I loved Mother’s Day. More specifically, I loved Blue Peter and never more so than when the presenters uttered the magical words “Mums leave the room” before they unveiled this year’s craft creation. I’m actually rubbish at crafts, so my Mum would feign delight at the latest wrapping paper, matchbox … Read more
I always loved World Book Day, although I pretended I hated it. I bristled at the expectation and I think at one point argued that it was a construct of the patriarchy. However, I was dedicated. My rules were strict, no film characters allowed. If it was a film then the book had to have come first.
And so now, what of the snow? We awake to see the ground covered and the flakes still falling. It’s crisp layer only seems to amplify the silence in the house, a soft blanket of sadness.
You never think it will happen to your family until it does.
Suddenly we were locked down. Our holiday was cancelled, Fred’s central line meant he could no longer go swimming. We were not allowed to travel anywhere more than 30 minutes from our hospital. I carried a thermometer in my handbag to check for temperatures.
How we talk about children’s cancer matters. It’s easy to worry about saying the right thing, the wrong thing, and often people end up saying nothing at all, which is the worst of all. The language used usually involves wars, battles, fighting, bravery. In many ways it’s odd. We never say a child lost their battle against an articulated lorry, but cancer it seems is up for the fight.
There are many kinds of mother you can be. Tiger mother, Alpha, Helicopter. I’ve never really seen myself as any of them, and certainly tried to avoid a few. If I had to classify my parenting style, I’d say that I carried stuff. To give it a festive flavour, if this were a nativity, I’d be the donkey.
A month ago today, I was sitting in Regent’s Park, reading a book, drinking coffee. I had an evening at the theatre planned. For the first time in years I felt that everything was under control. I’d spent the previous evening watching Barbra Streisand. I would never to make it to the theatre. 6 hours … Read more