Ever since I started writing about Mum’s illness, part of my brain must have known that I would have to write this post at some point, but it doesn’t make it any easier to write.
At lunchtime yesterday, Mum passed away. It was very quick and Dad was by her side.
Dad rang me at uni. Even though I knew as soon as I saw his name on my phone screen, and even though I’d known this was coming, it doesn’t make it any less of a surprise. Mum seemed a little better the night before – if not better, at least the same as the previous night, a stark difference from the rest of the week where she seemed to deteriorate noticeably every 24 hours.
A week or so ago I arranged for someone to contact a list of people who needed to know, and thankfully the whole system worked seamlessly. Within 5/10 minutes I had two welfare tutors in my room until a family friend came to take me home. My college have been amazing.
Yesterday afternoon, I walked into the lounge to see Mum for the last time. She was lying asleep on the bed. I put my hands under the duvet, found her hand, and held it, stroking her fingers like I did the night before. Holding the hand that held mine for the last 21 years. It was still warm. I put my head on the duvet and cried. Before I left, I stroked her hair and kissed her forehead just like she used to do for me whenever I was upset. It was cold.
Everything feels in slow motion today. I’m trying to remember the steps that people take each day in order to function. I keep catching myself sitting, or standing, thinking of nothing – but I’m doing okay.
I’m lucky to have an incredible bunch of people around me who are offering hugs, wise words and hot orange squash. I miss my Mum. Normally when something this upsetting happens, it’s her who I’d go to.
It has been a long 3 years since Mum was first diagnosed with cancer, and an even longer 18 months since she was diagnosed as terminal. We now have a long road ahead of us dealing with the grief that comes with Mum’s passing, but there’s no rush, and in some small way we can at least take comfort in the fact that Mum is no longer hurting. It’s time to begin to develop a new normal as a family of four.
R.I.P. Mum. 24/09/62-23/10/15
Naomi Jane 
Thank you, everyone ❤
thank you for sharing Naomi. It is helping me…. despite me hating your pain. I’m sending you love and strength. xxx
I am so sorry to read that you’re going through this. I can identify with a lot of what you have written. I was 17 when my Mum died, and even now at 40 it’s still her I want when things are rough. Lean on the support that it sounds like you have around you, and go easy on yourself. Take care.
Naomi, my thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. You are an incredibly graceful, thoughtful and strong person who has achieved so much despite going through your own trials. Your mother must have been so proud to have a daughter like you and from how you speak of her, a beautiful inspiration to go through the last three years. Always here if you need anything xxx
One day there will be no more death’
One day soon, there will be no more death.
No more bodies to bury, no more tears to be shed.
No aches at the heart
No more pain, no more sorrow
No more endless rows of tomorrow and tomorrow
There will be only Now which lives on forever
The fearless sun will not darken or shiver
Our souls will take flight beyond earth, beyond time
Beyond to a world encircled in light
Many thoughts, prayers, and hugs are sent your way! Losing a parent is not easy at all. Grief is a hard thing to endure, but just feel it. Let it happen and don’t suppress it. Please know that there is no time limit for your grief and that it is okay to grieve. Many hugs! If you ever need to talk about your feelings, feel free to stop on by my blog. I have lost both parents and am 26, so I can easily relate. I’m here for you! ❤
My thoughts go out to you and your family xx
Much love. You’re in my thoughts and prayers.
I’m so sorry Naomi, I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through 😦
I’m sorry. ❤ .
Love you!! This is so beautifully written xxx