Things I never knew

I was just talking to my Aunty and she was telling me about her grandchildren. This led her to mention in passing how easy-going I was as a baby and how quickly I learnt things, I knew this because my Mum has always said that. My Aunty said I was even potty trained by the time I was 18 months old, and that is something I never knew. That in itself is nothing major to be blogging about but it caused me to stop because it hit me then how many things there will be about my childhood that I will now never know and that makes me feel very sad.

My Mum kept a diary for years and years and wrote in them every single day until she became too ill towards the end of her life. The top shelf in her wardrobe was just full of these diaries going back before I was born. One of the few things that Mum made me promise that I'd do after she died was to burn all of the diaries. She didn't want anyone to see what she had written. I completely respected that and when I sorted her belongings out a few months after she died I set fire to all the diaries. It made me cry at the time because it was a huge part of her life that we were losing.

Today I realise just how much we lost. In those diaries would have been details of her pregnancies, our childhoods, important milestones etc etc and it's all gone. If I could go back I would still burn those diaries because I'd promised her and I would never ever invade someone's privacy like that. But I wish I could have had more time with my Mum to ask her these questions, to know the answers.

I did buy a book when she was first ill that had a question on every page about things in her past and our past and just about her life and Mum loved it, she said she was happy to fill it in for me. But the brain tumour did the damage before we got started.

I feel quite bereft just now of all the things I never knew.

Reflecting on 2011

I've just logged into Blogger for the first time in ages as I wanted to look at the resolutions I set myself for this year and to reflect on the year. The quote on my sidebar when the page loaded sums it all up really:

'You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along'. You must do the thing you think you cannot do'. ~ Eleanor Roosevelt


So this is my year...

My happiest news is that Paul and I got engaged in November and that tops everything.

Next on the list would have to be seeing Foo Fighters at the Isle of Wight festival and we were right at the front!!

I also saw Pulp at the same festival (amongst many, many other brilliant bands/singers)!

I went to my first Take That concert.

I travelled by train on my own via two stations I'd never been to before.

I went on a chairlift even though I'm terrified of heights.

I confronted the thing I'm most afraid of head on and I survived!

My achievements have been many this year and I feel quite satisfied when I think about how far I've come in a year. So in no particular order:

I can now leave the house and go into town by myself.
I can walk to the local shop.
I can be in the house on my own with all the curtains and blinds open.
I can answer the phone without anxiety.
I've learnt how to enjoy doing things for me.
I've found new hobbies.
I've learnt to cook and to bake.
I've found that I can control my anxiety and panic attacks to a large degree.
I'm much better at saying no to people when I don't want to do something or when they expect too much of me.
I no longer feel guilty about only sending birthday cards to people I like and who I'm in regular contact with.
I make an effort to ring people and catch up.
I've started driving again and while I don't really enjoy it as yet I am doing it, which is the main thing.
I've learnt that I'm not responsible for how other people behave.
I let go of a lot of hurt I still held surrounding how people were when my Mum was so ill and as a result I have people back in my life and that's a good thing.
I've learnt that forgiveness is about allowing yourself to feel better, it doesn't mean that someone got away with something. Sometimes you just have to let it go.


Not bad considering this time last year I couldn't even open the front door and take a step outside because my PTSD was so bad. I never opened the curtains because I was so anxious about what might be outside. I felt anxious constantly and my panic attacks were out of control.

All in all this has been a great year... it's been the year where had to confront some incredibly difficult things but in the process I finally began to find me again and to get my life back. I still have a long way to go but I feel like the hardest parts are behind me now. Here's to 2012!!

I wish I could make my brain stop remembering the dates of bad things. I mean, I struggle to remember birthdays. If the notifications on my phone don't ping to remind me of a birthday or an anniversary then generally I'll forget. Yet my brain seems to remember the exact date, and often the time as well, of every bad thing that ever happened to me. I drive myself mad with it.

And now I have a new torture. Yesterday it was three years since my Mum had the seizures that led to her being diagnosed with a secondary tumour in her brain. I didn't realise until today. I knew it happened on the 19th but I somehow wasn't aware of what date it was yesterday. So now on top of hating my brain for remember the date of the scariest, most distressing night of my entire life, I now feel guilty because I went through yesterday without thinking of it.

But it's weird because I have days, like yesterday, where I feel the weight of something pressing down on me. I feel insecure and vulnerable and I don't know why. I guess my body knew what yesterday was even though my brain was slower to realise.

I just want to not remember these dates anymore. I want to not remember every detail of what happened. Will it ever just disappear to the dim, dark recesses of my mind? Until it does, this time of year is just always going to be a tortuous reminder.

Books and London Memories

I used to be a member of bookcrossing.com. Well, I still am a member but I don't really bother with it anymore. I still have books on my bookcases that were registered by bookcrossers though so this week I decided to make a huge effort to read, journal and release those remaining books. It seems only fair.

I just picked up a biography of John Lennon. I remember this being sent to me and I was so pleased. I'd been wanting to read it for a while so it was lovely that someone sent it to me. I started reading it on the train to London in March 2008 but never finished it. I was going on a weekend break with my Mum, my brothers and partners. It was Mum's main Christmas present from us and we were all so excited. We were going to see We Will Rock You, which Mum had been longing to see since she first heard about it.

Little did we know on that very rainy but incredibly wonderful weekend that just weeks later Mum would get sick and be diagnosed with cancer. That just over ten months after that fab weekend she'd be gone from our lives.

Today I picked up the John Lennon book thinking I'd finally sit down and read it. But in typical me fashion the book had postcards and notes shoved inside it, they fell out when I picked it up off the shelf. It was the postcards I'd bought in London and a note I'd started writing to remind me of what we'd done so I could make something for Mum as a memento. I'd forgotten all about it and it never got done. 

I've just spent the last half hour sobbing and now I can't read that book. It's too linked with that weekend and all the sadness of what came after.

I really, really miss you Mum.

Last week Paul had to go away on a training course for work and at the last minute I decided that rather than staying home on my own all week I'd go visit my family. It's the first time I've been to visit them on my own since I moved away so I felt a little strange but I was looking forward to it at the same time.

Being in my home town usually stresses me out so much because I let certain members of my family dictate when they're going to see me and what we're going to do, they mean no harm but it usually ends up that I hardly get any time with my brother (who is the person I want to spend the most time with). So for the first time ever I was assertive with people. I didn't tell anyone other than my brother that I was going to be in town. I then made arrangements with him and a couple of friends who I wanted to meet up with. Then once I was there I then rang family members and was very specific about what day and time they could see me. It was a revelation to me that they all agreed to what I said. I didn't miss out on seeing anyone and I had the time to do all the things I wanted to. It felt amazing and I've definitely learnt a lesson, I'm going to keep building on this new-found self-confidence from now on.

It was lovely to have more time with my youngest brother and his girlfriend, I felt I really got to have a proper catch up with them. I even spent lots of time with their cats! I've always been scared of cats but I quickly got used to these two and by the end of the week could cope with them lying on my knee. Another fear conquered!

I really enjoyed meeting up with a friend from twitter and catching up with an old Uni friend who I'd not seen in two and a half years. It did me the world of good to have a natter and a giggle.

On the Thursday I'd made sure I had no plans and I went into the town on my own. I took flowers for my Mum, which I always find really upsetting. Mum's ashes are buried in a lovely garden and it's where she wanted to be but I still find it so hard to walk away and leave her there. I had a good chat with her and a good cry. Then I had a wander around the town. It's the first time I've been into the town on my own in two and a half years, normally Paul is with me and I'm busy showing him different places. But this time it was just me and I realised that I no longer really feel anything for this town, it's just the place where I grew up. The nostalgia that I have when I'm away from there has left me to a large degree and I'm glad about that. I feel like this time I said goodbye to the place in a way that I never did when I moved away. Now I just feel that it's the place where my brother lives and that feels much healthier to me.

On my last day my brother took the day off work and we got to spend the day together, which was really nice. He came with me to meet up with someone who I wasn't sure I wanted to see but I'm glad we went. I was finally properly assertive and in charge with this person and that more than anything has changed me on this trip. To be able to look the person who you fear most in the eye and tell them how you feel is liberating.

I still have a long way to go to recover from all the things that have happened to me but I feel like this week away has changed me and my outlook in so many positive ways. I quite literally feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

Failure

You know when life seems to be conspiring to make you feel like a total failure; well, that!

Someone from my past turned up unexpectedly a few weeks ago and that set the wheels in motion. This person has no place in my life anymore and they know that. Yet they turned up out of the blue and I still feel thrown even now and have no idea what I'm going to do.

Then my counselling came to an end. I'm not recovered, I still have a long way to go, but I've had my allotted sessions and now have to try and put into practice all that I've learnt in therapy. I'm to keep building on the strength that I found and keep progressing.

I decided my next challenge was to try and get back to driving again. I've always loved driving and I've always been a  good driver but through the difficulties of the last couple of years I've barely driven at all. Half the time I've barely even managed to leave the house on my own never mind think about getting in a car and driving somewhere. So I attempted driving this week and it was awful. I felt stressed and very anxious and I hated every second of it. I gave up my drive halfway through and now feel like a total failure. 

Then today the letter I've been expecting from Uni arrived. I now have to make the absolute decision about whether to continue with my degree or not. I thought I'd made my mind up to quit but seeing this letter gave me such a pang and I don't quite know what to make of that. I hate quitting things, it's not how I used to be.

I feel like this past few weeks, with all that's happened, has led me to the realisation that I just don't know who I am anymore. I knew I'd lost a lot of myself when my Mum was ill but I didn't realise how difficult it was to find a new place in life. I'm very happy personally, I have an amazing boyfriend and we have a lovely house together. But the rest of my life is just a big ball of confusion. I just don't know where to go from here. I don't know what I want to do... I guess I just need to take some time to figure it all out.

Bookcrossing

I've just been onto my bookcrossing page for the first time in a really long time. I no longer really do bookcrossing but I do make a point of making journal entries and release notes on books that other bookcrossers have given me over the years, I feel that it's only fair.

For some reason my bookcrossing account has defaulted to the location where I used to live and all the saved release locations are from there too. It's just made me feel really, really sad to see the locations where Mum and I used to release books when we were on days out. And on so many of my old journal entries it says that Mum had kindly posted books for me. She was so much a part of my bookcrossing.

All the latter journal entries are even sadder. The 'released at the Oncology department fundraising table' note appears on so many books. I wanted to do my bit for the department that was helping my Mum and so I made a point of gathering up a full carrier bag or two of books every time Mum had an appointment there.

Bookcrossing journal entries give away so much about my life, it's really made me feel quite sad reading through them. I think the sadness was why it hurt me so much to carry on bookcrossing after Mum died and why I just couldn't do it anymore, she was so much a part of that hobby of mine.

I miss her such a lot but I love that she is so woven into all those books that have been released. I love that anyone who ever finds one of those books will see that my Mum was a part of all that and that she helped me to continue with my hobby and that she loved it as much as I did.

Goodbye to Academia (for now)

I've made a start on sorting out my bookcases. The main reason for doing this is that I've replaced some of my books with Kindle books and see no reason to keep the actual books anymore. I started with the bookcases that hold all my personal books - the ones I've read that I've kept and the ones I've yet to read. I still have loads of actual books that I'm keeping to read, I couldn't bear not to have real books around me. Then I got round to my academic bookcase; the one that holds all of my text books, essay books, the classics etc all from my English Lit degree. I maybe should have avoided starting on those books today after my sadness of yesterday. I can't seem to bring myself to think of getting rid of them quite yet.

The bookcase has made me cry. It holds all of my hope and ambition from four years ago; it holds everything I thought I was working towards. There are already books I had bought in preparation for my third year that I didn't get to start and now never will.

It's made me realise that this sadness I feel at stopping my degree isn't coming from my fear that I'm making the wrong decision; it's coming from the process of letting go of it. I think there's part of me that feels grief at what my life would have been if things had been different. And it's actually probably quite normal that I feel like that.

Everything changed the day that I knew my Mum was going to be diagnosed with a terminal illness and since the day we lost her my life has been turned on its head. In some ways I think it's only now that I'm getting to grips with what has happened to me over the last two years.

The biggest thing I'm starting to understand is that I don't think it would be healthy for me to be back in an academic environment right now. The last thing I need is to be reading books and analysing them and dwelling on what I can see of my own life in them. My head needs activity; I need to get lost in cooking and baking and walking and gardening and even housework. I need practical things to occupy me. The only books I want to read are the ones I get lost in purely because I'm enjoying them so much, I don't want pressure to read certain things.

So my decision is that I'm going to quit my degree. I may come back to it at some point in the future but it's not for me right now. And I'm going to allow myself a little while to be sad about it. But then I have to pick myself up, look to the future and figure out what it is that I want to do with my life.

Decision made (just about)

Just phoned my youngest brother for a chat about my degree. He thinks that Mum would've wanted me to do what was best for me and I know he's right. He also, very wisely, pointed out how different my life is from two and a half years ago and that I can't make my decision based on how I felt back then. And that's the thing that decided me.

Two and a half years ago I was living with my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend at my Mum's house (we gave up our flat to move in with Mum so I could look after her), I was struggling to focus on my studies that I'd previously loved and my Mum was dying. And now I live with Paul in a house that we own together on the other side of the country to my Uni. Paul and I are working towards finishing doing up our house and hopefully then moving on to somewhere better; this current house is our stepping stone.

So there's the thing, my life now is about Paul and our home and bettering our life together. My degree is not part of that life. As soon as I feel stronger I'd rather look at the possibility of part time work than study.

My 'baby' brother and his wise words have made it all click into place. My degree and the hopes that went with it were part of the life I had before; it's just not part of the life I have now. I think my sadness really comes from what I lost in the life I had before - my Mum. And now I've realised that I think I'm getting to grips with stopping my studies.

I think I may just be ok with the decision I've pretty much now made. And in my heart of hearts I know my Mum would be ok with it too. I can almost hear her saying that if I'm happy, then she's happy too.

Feeling sad

Last night we listened to Sounds of the Century on Radio 2. It was the year 1963 and I was enjoying listening to it. But then some of the songs played were from *that* film and while I no longer feel anxiety connected with what happened to my Mum that night, I'm left with this overwhelming sadness when I'm reminded of it. The night Mum had those seizures and almost died, the night we found out that the cancer had spread to her brain was quite literally the scariest night of my life. And I still feel so sad when I think of what she went through. She didn't deserve any of it. 

I haven't been able to shake of this sadness since last night. Today I feel really down and am trying to keep occupied so this sadness doesn't take a proper hold on me. It seems for some reason that maybe I'm supposed to be sad today.

The post just arrived and with it a copy of my academic transcript. I'm on my second year of a two year intercalation from my degree. My transcript is a copy of the results of my first two years of study. I know my results, I've seen them before but today it's just made me cry. 

I was so happy when I started Uni as a mature student aged 27. I loved every second of my first year and surprised myself with my results. I made new friends and a whole new world opened up to me. 

My second year of Uni started a few weeks after my Mum was diagnosed with terminal cancer. She was adamant that I was not to give it all up for her. So even though I'd moved back home to look after her I was travelling to Uni when required and still writing essays. When Mum got more ill I had to indefinitely extend deadlines as I could no longer leave Mum even for short periods.

My Mum died shortly before the start of the second semester and I went back to Uni, I caught up with my work and I finished the year. But it nearly finished me off. My heart wasn't in it and I was going through the motions. At the end of all that I had my nervous breakdown, which I'm still recovering from now.

But now my time is up. I have to decide whether I want to continue my studies or to leave it all behind. My honest feeling is that my heart is no longer in it, I've moved on from who I was then and I just don't think I can go back. My degree has all got tied in with so much sadness and pain and when I think of returning to it, all I can think of is that. At the same time I know I've only got one year of study left and then my degree will be done, it seems such a waste not to finish it.

My Mum was so proud when I told her I'd been accepted at Uni. She was ecstatic when I won an award for academic merit in the face of adversity (when I was studying and caring for Mum at the same time). She made me promise her that I wouldn't give it up while she was ill or after she'd gone. So now I feel so guilty at the fact I'm thinking of giving it all up. 

I just want more than anything right now to see my Mum, to have her hug me and for her to help me decide what to do because I just feel so lost.

Isle of Wight Festival!

Last weekend was the Isle of Wight festival. It's the first festival I've ever been to and I was really excited about it and a bit apprehensive too. I was worried how I would be with my PTSD and dealing with crowds and open spaces but I was determined to manage as well as I could. Paul was endlessly reassuring me though, which is what I needed.

We arrived on the Thursday night and checked into our hotel; we just had a relaxing night and I tried to rest ready for the next day.

Friday arrived with sunshine, which was a great start. We left early and drove around Newport, we were lucky enough to rent a driveway off a guy who lived really close to the festival site. It couldn't have been a better place.

We were at the festival for it opening and found a perfect shaded place to sit under a huge tree. The first act on was Big Country, who to be honest weren't that great but it was good to be able to just chill out and see a band. The weather got cooler so we went for a walk around the festival then came back in time to see We Are Scientists on the Main Stage, they were great. It then started drizzling so we ended up in the Big Top to shelter from the rain and Sharon Corr was playing. Neither of us would have put her on our list of people to see but she was actually good and we found ourselves singing along to familiar songs. Next up was Imelda May, who was on our list, and she didn't disappoint. We then made our way back out in the rain to find a place to see Kaiser Chiefs on the main stage. The Courteeners were still playing so we got to see the last few songs of their set, I've never been a big fan but I enjoyed hearing them live. Kaisers did what they do, they were a little predictable but at the same time it was nice to jump around and sing to familiar old songs like I Predict a Riot and Ruby. Unfortunately by the time they finished we were so cold and wet that we decided to leave, so we missed Kings of Leon. Health comes first though and we were right to leave but we are both gutted now that we didn't see them. I was really pleased with how well I coped with day one, we kept slightly out of the big crowds although it did get a bit cramped where we stood for Kaisers but I coped with it fine.

Day two of the festival got off to a bit of a bad start with my stomach problems flaring up. I spent the morning in bed and was starting to think I'd miss the day. Thankfully by mid afternoon I was feeling a bit better so we set off in glorious sunshine for the festival.

I was disappointed to miss seeing Hurts but luckily got to hear them as we were arriving, which was better than nothing. We then headed straight for the Garden Stage to see The Scarletz. They're a new group who we decided to try and see after hearing about them on twitter. They were really good and we're so glad we made it in time for their set. We then headed to the main stage to see Mike and the Mechanics. We found a space in the sun back from the stage, it was bliss. It was great to see the crowd singing along and everyone got up on their feet for The Living Years, which was fab as it's my fave Mike and the Mechanics song. When they'd finished Paul suggested we have a wander and decide where we wanted to stand for Foo Fighters later on. I wanted a good view but didn't want to get stuck in a pushing crowd. We were amazed at that time to get right near the front and decided to stay there a while to see Seasick Steve. His set was brilliant. I'd never paid much attention to him or his music but I'm definitely a fan now. We then saw Iggy Pop and the Stooges. I know their music but have never been a big fan but Iggy was so engaging, it was another great set. Next up was Pulp and we only had one or two rows of people in front of us and I just couldn't resist staying there to see them. My anxiety was lurking as the crowd started building behind us but Paul kept reminding me to just look forward and not think about it so that's exactly what I did. The reward was that I saw Pulp do their thing in front of me and not just on a big screen. I'm a huge Pulp fan and was in my element. Jarvis Cocker is just brilliant. As Pulp finished the group of lads in front of us decided to leave and someone pushed me and I found myself right at the front, like against the railing at the front. The Foos were on next and I was at the front!! I felt a bit panicked in case the crowd surged but there was so much security in front of us that I figured I'd be ok. We were to the side of the mosh pit too which helped, I don't think my anxiety could have coped with that just yet. So Foos came on and I saw their whole set right in front of me, I couldn't have been any nearer. Apparently we were even on telly! We got some great photos and have some fabulous memories. It was one of the best nights of my life. I saw my fave band from that close and I conquered a huge demon - my fear of crowds, my fear of being outside with people I don't know, my fear of being trapped. The reward for facing those fears was so huge that it's made me feel so focused and so determined to beat my PTSD once and for all now. I was walking on air and am still wittering on about it over a week later!!

On day three came the torrential downpour and strong winds. It had been forecast but the weather was so nice on the Saturday that we'd hoped the forecast was wrong. We decided to head out in the afternoon as planned and see how we got on. We parked the car and put on our waterproof jackets. I had on four layers of clothing plus a waterproof jacket and a poncho and I was still freezing. We went straight to the main stage to see Two Door Cinema Club who were fab. We enjoyed singing and dancing along to their set but after they'd finished we realised how cold and wet it was. We wandered over to the Garden Stage to see Ian Broudie, who was really good but I was properly shivering by this point. I have arthritis too so my joints were really hurting from the cold and my wet clothes. We headed to the Big Top to try and warm up a bit but I was really struggling. I needed to sit down but there was nowhere, everything was muddy and soaking wet. Paul decided that my health was more important than any band so we called it a day. We were gutted. Paul missed PiL, who'd he'd most wanted to see and I missed the Manics. Still there'll be other chances. I was in agony by the time we got back to the hotel so it was probably a good thing that we left when we did, still a shame though.

All in all it was a fabulous weekend though and I'd definitely got the festival bug... can't wait for next year!!

Take That!!

Paul won tickets for us to see Take That in Manchester on Friday night. I've been a huge fan of them forever so was massively excited and the concert did not disappoint.

We got there at just after 7 and were amazed how close to the front we got at that time. The Pet Shop Boys had just started their set. I'm a big fan of theirs too and for a moment felt a twinge of sadness as my Mum had been a real fan. But actually instead of being sad that she isn't here to see it made me want to enjoy it even more. I enjoyed it for us both.

Take That as a four piece were brilliant. Robbie as a solo act was fab. And Take That as a five piece were amazing. I was really happy that they played a mix of old and new as I hadn't been expecting that.

I found myself, from the Pet Shop Boys all the way through Take That, singing at the top of my voice and dancing and smiling. Friday night is the first time in a really long time where I felt uninhibited and just didn't care that I can't sing a note in tune. Not since before my Mum was ill. I've really missed who I was before and never thought I'd be so carefree ever again but tonight I captured it for those few hours. And it felt so good!

It wasn't easy for me being in a crowded stadium, I have PTSD and although I'm getting better it's still hard at times. I only had a bit of panic right near the end when the crowd all got really closed in. Six months ago though I could barely leave the house and if you'd told me then that in a few months I'd be at a big concert I wouldn't have believed you.

So funnily enough, and I know it's really cliche to say it but I don't care, Take That's amazing Progress tour has highlighted for me just how much incredible progress I've made. I feel really good just now.

Being a Carer

I've been watching Eastenders again recently, you know how it is you watch one episode and it sucks you back in then before you know it you're watching regularly.

I've found the storyline with Dot heartbreaking, particularly Monday's episode where she was falling apart trying to look after her husband and have a life of her own. She was trying to desperately to remember the man he was before he was ill and trying to rekindle her love for him.

As any of you who have read my blog will know, I cared for my Mum when she was dying. I was more than happy to do it and if I had to go back in time I would do it all over again, it was the least I could do for her and I don't for a second begrudge it. But it was hard. Really, really hard. I was on my own with her in the same room in the same house for months with little to no support from anyone. Part of that was my fault because I was fiercely independent, as Dot is being in Eastenders, but partly because people just stop calling in. It's a struggle.

There was one day when there had been a mix up with Mum's prescription and I needed the medication for her urgently so had no choice but to go out to the chemist. I had to beg someone to come sit with Mum for twenty minutes while I went out. The chemist was quite rude to me and I lost my temper. I snapped at him and ended up sobbing. I was completely and utterly exhausted and at the end of my rope. Thankfully one of the assistants knew me and took me into the office, I wept on her shoulder for quite a few minutes. Then I had no choice but to dry my eyes, go home and put on a big smile for my Mum like everything was ok and under control. It was so difficult to act normal when my heart was breaking.

You may wonder why I'm going over all of this again. Well after Monday night's Eastenders I felt drained; June Brown portrayed so well the tension and the hurt of caring for someone you love while watching them deteriorate. I think most carers would admit that at one time or another they've wanted to scream or sob or throw something, it's such a hard job. I was shocked, therefore, after being so moved by  the episode to see people laughing about Dot's crying, laughing at her obsessively trying to buy a particular type of syrup. I did things like that too, my Mum was at the end of her life and I became quite obsessive over seemingly silly things because I wanted to make her as comfortable and as happy as I could. I wanted to try and bring back the Mum I was losing. It's not actually funny, June Brown's portrayal was so accurate of life as a carer. I know it's only a soap and she was only acting but for many people that's how their life is.

So I guess what I really want to say is please don't laugh or judge til you've walked a mile in that person's shoes. I wouldn't wish it on anyone but unless you've been a carer you are so lucky that you have no idea just how hard it is.

Aly

Aly and I aged 16

My cousin Aly was my best friend. We were the same age, all but a few months, and were always close. She lived in America and I live in the UK but we were always on the phone to each other and writing letters. It was brilliant when we both got the internet at home and could email and msn each other. We visited as often as we could.

Aly and I were polar opposites in so many ways but we balanced each other. Aly's Mum used to say that we were like two halves of the same whole, and that really sums up how we were.

She called me sunflowergirl because I adored sunflowers. To this day when I see a sunflower I think of her and grin. I called her Lexus because she was obsessed with wanting one as she thought it would add to her glamour.  :)

Aly pushed me to do the things that I didn't think I could do and I needed that in my life. I've always been a thinker and, as a result, quite hesitant whereas Aly lived at a million miles an hour.  People say I was the person that steadied her when she needed steadying.

Aly was diagnosed with cancer when she was just 19 years old, she was 8 months pregnant at the time. She was so brave and so amazing. Her son was born healthy, despite her having undergone chemo and radiotherapy while pregnant, which seemed a miracle. 

One of my favourite photos of Aly and her son

In March 2000 Aly called me in tears and said she wanted to see me, she needed me with her. We never spoke at that point about what was happening but I knew. My family and I flew over there in April and stayed for three and a half weeks. Aly seemed quite well, she was full of energy. We spent our time shopping and watching movies, driving around and having fun. 

We went to get french toast at 2am while wearing our pyjamas. She dared me to sing Thong Song in the middle of a car park and I did. We bought each other presents and we talked a lot. We went to see the Sandra Bullock film 28 Days and we sobbed all the way home. We talked so much that night about her fears and mine, little did we know that within a week all of my fears would be happening.

On our last weekend Aly got sick and had to go into hospital. She never came home. She died just after 4am on the Tuesday morning. Aly was just 20, three months short of her 21st birthday.

It's eleven years today since she died and I still miss her. She had a huge impact on my life and I carry her with me to this day. Every time I feel like I can't do something, I can still hear her voice encouraging me.

She was beautiful, unique and she was my best friend.

Love you Aly, from your sunflowergirl xxx

Mum's Birthday

Today would have been my Mum's 60th birthday. I've felt really quite sad over the past couple of weeks. It's hard to think that I would have been busy organising a surprise family party for her and now there is nothing I can do.

It's still so strange and so hard to talk in terms of would have been. Mum was 57 when she died and that is too young and it's not fair. I miss her.

I want her here. I want to take her out and spoil her, I want to send her a huge bouquet of flowers, I want to buy her a huge chocolate cake, I want to do her make up and have her do my nails for me, I want us to be getting ready to go out in a whirlwind of perfume and hairspray. I want to give her a hug, I want her to hug me. I want to talk with her and laugh with her and share things with her. I want to tell her about Paul. I want to tell her about my life. I want her to tell me that it'll all be ok. I want her to tell me that it was ok. I want her to know just how very much I miss her. I want her to know how brave and special and wonderful she was. How amazing and inspiring and beautiful. How much we loved her. How much we still love her.

I wish you were here Mum. More than anything on this earth I wish you were here.

I love you and miss you. xxx