Tears of a Clown

Okay, so we're back on song titles....today it's Smokie Robinson and the Miracles...1967... Not my most favourite Smokie Robinson number, but one which is apt for this post.

Tom wrote recently about the difficulty in finding titles, and I couldn't agree more. I've spent hours in the past staring at the screen, thinking about "naming" the post. In the end I usually just start typing and see what happens....and today, once I had decided the few things I wanted to say, it came to me.....and I'm sure our reader will work it out.

We are all slowly settling in to "new things that we need to do"....and one of those is certainly shopping...specifically for food. Earlier this year Tom decided we needed to start using Amazon Pantry...does our reader know of it? It's basically online food shopping....not fresh or local produce obviously..but long shelf life stuff....tins, bottles, detergents, etc. We bought an "Amazon tablet".... a mobile screen that sits on a stand in the kitchen and links straight to Amazon (amazingly!)...and started to see how we got on. We can shout at it (SIRI, ORDER SOME TINS OF SWEETCORN) and Siri tells us what's on offer. Once we have enough in "the box" it just magically gets delivered. Okay, it's not quite a simple as that...and often Siri hasn't got a clue what we are talking about, but what's new? We quite often have conversations around the kitchen where people have no idea what others are saying!

Anyway, back to food shopping....and the fact that I am (slowly) finding my way around supermarkets. I've actually got to the point where I can accomplish a Waitrose shop all on my own without any hiccups....well, nearly. I was pretty chuffed the other day that I had managed to fill my trolley....I had found everything I needed without problems....I hadn't wandered around vaguely trying to discover the location of the last item on the list....I had managed to do "self service checkout"... I hadn't used the Waitrose card to try to pay (3 times) without success (instead of my credit card)...I hadn't had to "call for assistance"... and I got out to the car feeling pretty good (yes, I know it's something I should be able to do with my eyes closed...but....it's all new to me). I unloaded all my bags into the boot...still feeling proud....and then realised that I still had the self service scanner plugged firmly into the handle of the trolley. Total dismay...felt a bit of a clown..time to have a cry(?)....I still haven't managed to get a "clear round" at Waitrose....maybe next time.

I've mentioned sharing before...and how Jilly and I shared so much. We have so many "personal" things around the house...quirky things...things that were personal to "us".... not personal to "me"... but us....I mean, who has an old (very old) set of potato bag weighing scales in their house?

Something else that was personal to us was the "height chart" in the hall at Cottage Farm. Over the years when we at the farm, across the road, we had stood the children (and anyone else who decided they wanted to participate) against the wall and marked off their height. As the years went by we plotted the children's progress...they all grew much taller than we ever would have imagined! Yes, it was "writing on the paintwork"...but it gave us so much enjoyment. Anyway....we were given a photo of the said wall during the summer...VH very kindly had the picture framed and gave it to us as a present. Where to put it is now the question? It's exactly the sort of quirky thing that Jilly and I would have loved to share with everyone....and I feel lost without her input. While I'm deciding I can at least put a photo up.

I'm still slowly sorting through things...but one of the problems with having such a large house is that there's lots of places to "put stuff". I keep discovering things...forgotten cupboards with Jill's tall boots in...small cupboards with, for example, a stack of teeshirts in...one "T" from every charity walk/run/swim etc that Jill ever did! I guess it was "memories" that she liked to keep....and there were plenty.

I have moved my office into the main house......some of you may know that Jill had an office opposite the dog's utility room (no, our dogs don't have utility room of their own (obviously!) but with another utility room across the yard that's the name we called it). Anyway, in clearing space in her office to fit my desk I came across yet another file box I hadn't looked in. It was named Jill/personal/2018. I wasn't sure what to expect...

The box contained (amongst other things) a named envelope for each of us....Me, Tom, Jack, Stephe, Dan and Bex. I couldn't bring myself to open mine for a couple of days...but eventually I did. I don't think I was worried about the contents...I think it was that I knew that reading whatever was written would almost certainly set me back in the grieving process. It wasn't pages and pages...but words that summed up Jill's thoughts on our life together. How our very humble beginnings (a small cottage with no furniture and no children...) turned slowly, over the 33 years, into something quite different....quite unimaginable at the outset. How she wouldn't have missed it for the world...... 

Neither would I.

Associations

If you're a programmer you might have heard joke that goes something like 

There are two hard things in computer science: cache invalidation, naming things, and off-by-one errors.

Whilst that may be the worst joke you've ever heard, there is some truth in the fact that naming things can be quite challenging.

Today is no exception as it's taken me over 10 minutes to try and work out what to put as the post title. 

Writing a title shouldn't be hard, but I'm going to be honest, i've sometimes been feeling a little bit lost lately.  Whilst I felt comfortable with the concept of death, the reality can be a little different.  

The finality of death has a tendency to rears it's ugly head when you're least expecting it and kick you right in the gonads. 

I feel I am coping pretty admirably (like a 9/10) so it's not all doom and gloom.  Day to day things are fine, it's just hard to break some of those hardwired associations that you have in your head. 

This could be things like saying "I don't know how mum sleeps with Dads snoring" only to realise that you now need to be talking in the past tense.  

Or perhaps it's something more substantial.  A few weeks ago I was out in the meadow chopping a tree, when I was all of a sudden surrounded by the dogs.  I looked up to see a figure on the horizon, and for a fleeting moment my brain told me it was mum, as 99% of past times it has been.

It's not that the figure on the horizon wasn't mum that was the problem, it's that it's never going to be her.   

It reminded me of a clip from Futurama.

Given enough time, I am sure it will be easier to reconcile the sadness of her passing with a deep appreciation of her and the effect she’s had on not just my life, but everyone that she’s touched.

The presence of death keeps us mindful of our limited time in the world and ensures that we focus our time and energy on the right things, like making us better appreciate the time we spend with family and friends.  I know Dad alluded to this in his last post.

If we consider life to essentially be a long list of experiences, then death is an eraser for parts of that list.  When things are removed from the list, life gets the opportunity to substitute a new perspective in its place.  You adapt, and you move on.

Move on to things like taking portrait selfies with the dogs.

Sundays and sun days.

Has our reader heard of "Playing for Change"? It's a movement, created in the US of A (where else) to inspire and connect the world through music. The idea for this project came from a common belief that music has the power to break down boundaries and overcome distances between people. Despite starting back in 2002, I've only just discovered it...and I've realised that they've covered some great numbers. When I spotted another version of "What's Going On" I got really interested. WGO is a song written by the great Marvin Gaye back in 1971, and he released it as a single and also an LP title. If you have a moment then check this out.... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JEp7QrOBxyQ&start_radio=1&list=RDJEp7QrOBxyQ.......it will be the best thing you do today.

The dogs went for haircut this morning....I'm not making any comment, other than to say that their hairstylist charges more than mine. Okay, I might not have much hair, and it only takes me 5 minutes tops for a "trim" but....really? It may be that they don't end up going so often. However, they are beautiful....and tonight's photo is one of "the girls" down at St. Caths.

At the beginning of the year the new Lady Captain at the Royal Jersey Golf Club selected Ovacome as her nominated charity...and in doing so SH committed to raising money for Ovacome during her 2 year Captaincy. This afternoon The Club held a tea and cake event...home, and hand, made produce, and a talk by Jersey Heritage. They raised over £700....another great money making event put on by Jill's best friends. It will be some time yet before Jilly's financial legacy quietens down.

News in short - Granville went well on Friday last, and as good as I could have hoped for. St. Malo this Friday maybe? - Jack and Stephe back from Canada tomorrow evening. It looks like they've had a pretty fabulous time. - Bex at St. John's Ambulance this evening - States tomorrow. Short sitting (again). Should be done before lunch. - After having a spectacular weekend on the water, Dan has had a day in the office. Back to sea tomorrow for some more great weather. - Watch out for a real cold snap as the weekend approaches. I'm still in shorts. It may get painful....but let's see.

I'll finish with another picture. This time from a far off parish in the south west of the Island. I came upon it quite by accident the other day after taking a wrong turn at Bel Royal. Seriously though, I went out there with dogs for a Sunday morning beach walk with my good friend and political confidante SP. This was the view as we "filled up" at the cafe after the walk. Lovely.

I can't end just yet. I need to report some more awfully sad news about a friend of ours who has also passed away from cancer yesterday. Leah Ferguson was a Channel TV reporter, but she was also a really good friend of Jilly and mine. I'd got to know Leah when she was the political correspondent for Channel, but it was early last year that we really got to know each other...when she developed cancer. She was also having treatment at the Marsden...so there was plenty of mutual discussion....indeed, we got to meet Leah's Dad for the first time when we all found ourselves in the Fulham Road having appointments at the same time. Leah was like Jill....a fighter...a positive person, despite her cancer...a real gem...so funny, even in her terrible adversity. Just like I did with Jill oh so recently, I now find that I'm wishing I'd spent more time calling Leah "just for a chat". She was so easy to get on with..so easy to discuss issues...never giving up...always smiling....but again, too late now for that call.

As I've said before......DO IT NOW. You just don't know ..... you may not have the chance to do it tomorrow.   

Looking back...to look forward

Tom posted the other day about his proudest moments. Well, this evening he has made both his parents very proud...I'm sure Jilly will have been looking down, (probably between some keep fit class and a game of tennis). Anyway, along with his partner Tom Hacquoil, my Tom has, this evening, won The Digital Start Up of the Year at the Digital Jersey Tech Awards. "Pinpoint" is something they've dreamt about for years, worked at (really hard), developed themselves, and finally taken to market....and to win this prestigious title in the first year of Jersey Tech Awards is 100% well deserved in my book. Look out for them in the media....they're going places. At long last, some return on those university fees! Seriously though...a proud Dad this evening.

Our reader will notice that I've managed to get photos on this post....as Jill would say, Go Me! Copy, paste, bluetooth on, air drop and all that techy stuff...I think maybe I know where Tom gets his digital skills from (not)!


As we all know, Jilly threw herself into everything, especially in the years since she was diagnosed. Playing sport was her way of forgetting about the bloody disease...those rare short moments when you suddenly realise you haven't thought about cancer for while. Of course, those moments are followed by finding yourself being snapped back into reality...and your thoughts return to having to "just get on and cope". It's strange but in the last few days I've had exactly those feelings myself. I'm trying to get back into work mode, and Brexit needs some real concentration and thought. Only today I was suddenly aware as I drove home from meetings that I hadn't thought about Jill, and her passing, for a couple of hours. I had had a morning feeling a little more upbeat about doing something useful and normal...and then BAM....it hits you. Things have been feeling a little empty of late...work was (and is) helping...and I know it will get better. KBO as she would say.


Our reader will remember the tennis ball in the tree at Le Saie. Both Tom and I have posted about it. Well, here is a photo so our reader can visualise the scene better. Can you "spot the ball"? For those of you with less good eyesight, it's just on top of the branch about a third of the way along from the left, hiding in the ivy.

Well, today the ball had gone!  Jessie was less than impressed. Maybe it's because this blog is now so (in)famous that everyone has been down at Le Saie hunting for said ball. A new one will be taken down soon...and hidden better!



I don't want to appear morbid, or "strange", but there are a couple of photos that I want share....and now that I've worked out how to load pictures there's no stopping me now. The first picture is the one from Hospice that made me cry so much. The photo I took of Jill and me holding hands. We must have held hands in this way for very very many hours in those last few days. I thought it was great photo...but by the time I took this picture Jill was asleep, and no longer "with us" enough to talk. It was the reality that I would never be able to show it to her that was hard to cope with. Sharing things was something that we did a lot....and I know she would have really liked this...so here it is...it doesn't need words.

The other "sad" photo is the wreath that we put on Jill's coffin. At first glance it may not appear quite as impressive as some you might normally see. No flamboyant colours...no huge blooms...no elaborate structure covering the whole coffin. However, when I tell you that it's made up of flowers that I personally picked from our garden, and that Bex took those flowers to (with a little help) put this wreath together, you will know that it meant more to us than anything. Jill was passionate about her garden, and so was I....we shared the work and the enjoyment. She would have been over the moon about this...again, it was heartbreaking for us to accept that she wasn't there to "enjoy the moment"...but we know she would have approved.

The final photo this evening is one of Jilly and me at Amy's slip. It needs no explanation. It was taken on 23rd. June. Less than 4 months ago.

Tomorrow I'm getting up very early and going to France...Granville to be exact. It's an important Brexit meeting to talk about fishing exports...lobsters, crabs and oysters. Maintaining this export market is vital to the industry, and I'm going to need to concentrate hard. My French isn't as fluent as it was, and getting even single words wrong can have serious consequences. There are some very important people to meet, and I'll be pretty tired by the time I get back tomorrow evening. It's good that I'll have lots to think about .... tomorrow would have been our 33rd. wedding anniversary. While I'll do my best, there's no doubt I may have some "tough moments" during the day.


My final thought for this evening is that, while so so many people have such great memories of Jill, I have more than everybody. Over those 33 plus years....probably 36 actually if you count those heady pre-wedding times (!!)....over all those years, Jilly and I shared so many good times. We shared those good times right up to the end...and even in the last 6 months (post that tough decision NOT to continue with chemotherapy) we found time for some wonderful moments...the photo above is proof of that. For ALL those memories I will always be grateful.

New Routines....

Six months ago it would have been a real bonus to have a Saturday night "home alone"...now it takes on a whole new meaning. With Jack, Stephe and Dan in Vancouver we are only three here at Seaford. Tom and Bex have both gone out to friends....leaving yours truly to dog sit....not that they need sitting.

In truth I've done nothing of any use this evening...there was every best intention...but sitting down on the sofa was always going to be a bad move, and I've struggled to stay awake. I can't say that I'm really sleeping well at the moment, well, not at night anyway.....and consequently I get very tired after supper.

This is Bex's second evening out in a row....and I'm so pleased that she's getting out. She's also upped her hours at work, and that's another good thing. Even I've managed to get in plenty of meetings this last week...although in many ways I wish it wasn't quite so busy. Brexit is a big deal, and there is plenty to keep me occupied....I just hope that all this hard work pays off...if there's "no deal" then things will get "interesting".

Jack and Stephe flew out to Vancouver on Tuesday and met up with Dan straight away. They've done sea plane rides...helicopter trips over the Rockies....and Orca watching! I pretty sure that seeing killer whales in their natural habitat was well up on Dan's bucket list....and I'm really pleased that he's managed to see some. Dan will be back on Monday evening...his fortnight will have flown past.

We've been getting on with "sorting out stuff" at home. There isn't a phrase that sits easily...."sorting out Jill's stuff" is what it is...but we're nearly there I think. However, we do keep finding odd bits and pieces where there are decisions to be made .... "what do we do with that?" is a phrase that's been used a lot lately. That even extends into the larder, where we are trying to "get organised". How many different types of sugar do we now need? How many different cooking oils? In reality things are going to be much simpler in the future when it comes to cooking....not that we're not creating genuine home made food...but (as I said the other evening) the realistic chances of us making cakes and the likes are now pretty small.

We've already dropped into a Saturday afternoon routine. Bex and I take the dogs in the car....Bex drops me (and dogs) at Le Hocq and I start walking east. Bex goes either Waitrose shopping, or M&S or, as happened today, BOTH! On the two occasions that we've done this I've managed to get as far as Seymour before Bex got back to pick me up....it certainly is a walk that the dogs love. However, it's a little poignant for me as the last time Jill and I walked the dogs on the beach together it was at Le Hocq.

I must work out how to insert photos on this blog...there's a couple that I've been meaning to put up for a while, but (being on my own without children who know how to do these things) it's not going to happen this evening. The cards and letters are still arriving....the last dozen or so are from people who were away last month....and we've also had some really lovely notes from those Doctors and Nurses that we wrote to after Jill's passing.

All in all life goes on....the washing machine is being used...we've been eating hot food...the dogs are getting walked...beds are getting changed... we've been wearing clean clothes (occasionally!)...I've even stretched to paying the "household" bills.

Things that are still a bit of mystery include "the iron", Jill's online banking and "the deep freeze" (of course we know what it is...it's just we haven't got around to looking to see what's in it!). No doubt there will be a whole blog post about what is discovered once we break the code and get into Jill's standing orders.

More soon reader.

Proudest moments

If you were to ask me about the times I've felt most proud, two spring to mind.

The first was watching my dad learn that he had been elected as Deputy of St Martin for the first time back in 2010.

I can recall the results being announced and seeing the jubilation on my mothers face, then turning to face Dad.  By contrast he had a blank expression - I don't think he quite believed that he'd managed to win, and clearly the result was taking a few seconds to sink in.

It was such a joyous time for all those that were involved in his campaign.  For dad, it was a double whammy: he managed to both win the election and lose weight, owing to the fact that he walked around the entire parish in his quest to canvas every household.

The second time was the other week at mums funeral where I was able to give her eulogy with my uncles.

Mum had said that she'd like her brother Peter to do her eulogy.  I get the feeling that asking someone to speak at your funeral is a bit of a big ask, and mum had already seen Peter speak admirably at my Grans funeral so I think that factored into her decision.

I knew I wanted to write something to be read, but I only really put pen to paper after she passed. It wasn't even meant to be a eulogy, more just some personal memories, but it sort of manifested into a eulogy when it became apparent that someone was needed to read out her vast array of sporting achievements.  You should all thank me for keeping those short, because there were many that we had to leave out!

I hadn't really intended to speak, but as I wrote, I realised that the only person that would be able to deliver the speech was me.

Whilst there were a lot of facts about her life, there was also the recounting of treasured memories, the telling of a few low quality jokes, as well as the emotional bits towards the end. 

It was all so personal; if I was writing it, it didn't seem right to ask anyone else to read it.

So, although I knew it might be hard, I also knew that if I didn't at least try to give the speech I'd regret it forever.

Fortunately I've been privileged to have been asked to do two best man speeches earlier this summer and so I felt happy enough with the level of practice of the intonation that needs to be done in order ensure that the delivery seems natural and not like you're reading off a piece of paper.

I had done two full run throughs in the Chapel the morning of the funeral with Jack and Dan repeatedly telling me to talk slower.  Talking louder wasn't a problem as apparently i've always had a loud voice.

I'd read my speech so many times that i managed to take almost all the emotion out of it, which was good because when I read it through the first few times, I cried.

I also didn't look at anyone whilst speaking as I was worried that it might set me off.  I'm not so stoic that I don't want to cry, it's just that it's hard to read with tears in your eyes.

After sitting down, Dad gave me a little handshake and said well done.  I think that he appreciated that we'd given her a good send off.

The only bad part? It was the proudest moment of my life to date, and my mum wasn't around to see it.

I knew we should have brought the coffin to the Chapel.

I would like to end by talking about Jacks proudest moment.  He is a very special boy who received a very special certificate.  So special that mum kept it in one of her memory boxes.

Another perspective....

It's been while now since I posted anything...and it's not for want of trying...it's just that there's been so much else "on"....so, with the weather on the change today, and the rain just starting to fall on the conservatory roof (it's 12ish), here I am attempting to get my brain into gear. I've spent the first few hours outside....a dog walk with SH at White Rock (always one of Jill's favourite spots) followed by some time in the garden doing some much needed tidying up (again, something that Jilly would have been busy at)...she wouldn't however have been writing blogs at this time of day!

I've deliberately mentioned Jill's name three times already....mainly because there's no point trying to avoid it. There are so many places we went together, so many things we did together (most especially at weekends) that it wouldn't seem right to not acknowledge that fact that her passing is still very raw....but in a detached sort of way. While we've continued to stick together as a family, and discussed everything, one still gets those "moments" when reality kicks in and one has to face the fact that things won't be the same again.

Ten days ago Bex said that it felt like Jill had just gone on holiday...and I know what she meant. In many ways were still in a weird position where she's only been gone for just on three weeks....the sort of time that she might have been away in London for treatment...or on an extended break somewhere. We're not into unknown territory yet when it comes to "time spent apart".... but that situation is slowly changing. If she was at the Marsden we would be now starting to say "it's time she came back...we're starting to miss her". I suspect that's why the next few weeks may very well be tougher in some ways than the last few. In the coming months the fact that Jill isn't coming back will really start to take effect. Last night was a case in point. Over the last few days Jack and Stephe have moved into the Cottage. They're really happy and enjoying the extra space, enjoying the extra distance between us and them, enjoying having a real seperate home. Last night they cooked for us (Pops, Tom, Bex and I) and we had a lovely meal, their first entertaining, in their new home. It's so good to see them so happy and content....but, as we came back home, Bex had a "moment". "Mum would have enjoyed that so much.....it's sad she wasn't here with us". I pointed out that there will be many more instances to come where we will be saying (or thinking) of Jilly, and how she would have loved what we're doing. We know that we will have those moments....and it won't have mattered when Jilly passed on...there would always be those instances. We had the pleasure of Jack and Stephe's wedding....the pleasure of our small party entertaining our neighbours....the pleasure of Jill's trip to the UK to see her family....and we need to be grateful for those times.

Tom has so ably taken up the blog writing that I now feel very inadequate when it comes to posting. I can only hope that our reader (who, according to the stats, is clearly still "logging in" to this blog) doesn't mind too much. My style is very different....and clearly less intelligent...but it does give another perspective. It also allows me to share some of my own input....although Tom seems keen to continue, and I'm very happy for him to do that.

I need to start (yes, I know I'm already 4 paragraphs in) with some sincere thanks. It's difficult to know where to go first...but, when I tell you that there were over 600 people at the service of celebration, and that we've received over 400 cards and letters, you will appreciate my dilemma. All I can do is say that we are so very grateful to everyone. Nearly every card had writing in...some cards we completely covered in writing...everyone had taken the time to put thoughts down in words....and there was some very moving and sincere writing. Jill clearly has had a major impact on many people.  Not that we needed to be told....but it's clear that she was love and admired by so many people....and being able to read all those words has been wonderful...so thank you all.

As a family (and also myself personally) we have now written to those very many doctors and nurses who made Jill's life so much more bearable since we were diagnosed in 2012. Some of those people have been on the journey with us all that time....some we only got to meet in Jill's last couple of days...but they were all equally important. Whether it's been at the Marsden in London, in Accident and Emergency over here, in Rayner Ward...in Pipon Ward...in the Emergency Assessment Unit...in the Oncology department....in the Haematology department...here at home....or, at the end, in Hospice....everyone of those people are in our debt. I cannot speak highly enough of their dedication....of their care and compassion...of their academic knowledge and advice....of their genuine concern for Jill. "Thank you" just doesn't do it....but words have frequently seemed inadequate recently.

It's now 5:30 and Bex and I have been to the cattle show to see the "in milk" classes...and the giant pumpkin (if you want to see new Jersey record vegetable then get up there tomorrow....well worth the admission price)...we've been to The Horse Box for a bacon roll late lunch (just down the road from l'Auberge...again, well worth a visit)....and I'm now just back from walking the dogs again. Getting out and about is a good way to meet people...and everyone is so supportive. I told the whole family that on Monday of this week we were all going back to work, and back to start some sort of new routine. That's worked well, but the "new routine" has already been broken by Dan heading off on holiday, and will be further disrupted by Stephe and Jack also heading off next week. That will leave Tom, Bex and me.....so, instead of 7, we will be 3. It could be interesting.

I didn't mention it previously, but we also had hundreds of people turn up at the RJA for the wake. I'm also grateful to all the team at Trinity for making the facility available at such short notice. It was a challenge to predict the numbers...and even more difficult to find a venue. Some went for a swim after the service...some went between the service and the wake...and in both cases Jill would have really appreciated that...it was exactly the sort of thing she would have done herself. Indeed, I thought quite a few times during the afternoon that the last place she would have wanted to be on such a glorious day would have been a funeral!

We've started "sorting" the house... I'm not going to be one of those who finds themselves many years down the line with "clothes still in drawers and wardrobes". After a couple of "sorting sessions" one thing does come to mind.....just how many pairs of trainers and sports outfits does one person need? "Many", seems to be the answer. I can see that different sports have different needs.... but WOW.... we have more trainers than Sports Direct! Anyway, they've all gone to good causes....we've tried to find young sportspeople who would appreciate them, and then (if not) Hospice will get the proceeds of their sale. We're not there yet, but it gives us a target to aim at...and having timetables and targets will be important. We need to be very careful not to fall into aimless afternoons and evenings.

There's so much more I could write, and I'll save some for later, but I'll finish with some very basic requests if I may. There are now quite a few plates and dishes up here at Seaford that we don't own....food that's been dropped off and consumed...but the "food containers" remain. I'll try to post a photo....and if something seems to be yours then please shout. I'm also going to post a photo of the cards we received...I know that doing that might not be everyone's cup of tea, but I think our reader might appreciate a look.

Last Times and Turning Points

The other day Dad and I tried to work out the last time mum played netball.  We couldn't pinpoint exactly when but we agreed that it was for the best that at the time, she wouldn't have known that it was going to be her last game of netball; if she did it would have made it a lot less enjoyable for her.

In contrast to that, at the end of my birthday this year, June 4th, I knew it was going to be the last one with mum. Unsurprisingly, it wasn't so enjoyable.

I decided to take a bit of the morning off work to go on a walk with mum down to La Saie with the dogs. She could still walk, but she got tired easily.  She was due to start chemo the next day.

We got to the bottom of the path and were about to walk onto the beach when she stopped and made a point of showing me that she hid a tennis ball in a tree stump - Jessie likes to chase a ball on the beach, and it meant she didn't always have to carry one with her.

It wasn't the act of showing me the ball that stood out, but the way in which she did it.  She didn't pick up the ball and keep walking, but stopped to turn and tell me face to face.

At the start of that day I still believed that there was some hope as regards her getting better, but she clearly knew that the writing was on the wall with regards to her prognosis.  She was making sure i knew about the ball so I could carry on when she wasn't there.  She didn't have to tell me explicitly, I just knew that was how she felt.

Such a tiny interaction was a turning point for me: It marked the time at which I started grieving. Up until that point I had been positive, and, perhaps, naively optimistic, but seeing her finally accepting the reality meant I too had to adjust my frame of mind. I cried every day for about 3 weeks.

During this time I made sure I told mum all those unspoken things I felt but had never said.  I was so emotional that I couldn't say the words and had to send her a message on WhatsApp.

I made a whole list of questions that I asked her to answer.  Things about her childhood, things about mine, questions about her legacy, and questions about parenting. 

I was incredibly fortunate that I was able to discuss most everything I wanted with her before she passed - I know a lot of others don't have that same privilege.

I also have no doubt that being able to go through that anticipatory grief whilst she was still with us has helped a great deal in the two weeks since her passing.  I think the only way I was able to speak at the funeral was because I had dealt with some of the pain months ago.

Reading back some of her answers to my questions, I realise that I asked her what she wanted to happen to the blog.  This was her response:

"Re the blog... The last Post... I do not want all that drivel about fighting a battle courageously borne, I've not done that, I just had cancer and was unlucky, but my life has been full and enriched by my friends and family, and unlike most people I have had the the time to be able to say goodbye to ones I love, and be overwhelmed and  humbled by their messages, texts and emails saying such beautiful  and kind words .. That's truly a privilege few folks get."

It's nice to put some of her actual words on here.