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IMAGE : THE MOTHER LOAD| And That's All I'll Say | | | |
Today, I feel a strange sense of calm and reflective finality. It's like that feeling when you close the final page on a life-changing book that is full of highs and lows but doesn't necessarily have a fairytale ending. I feel as though we're closing a door on cancer for the first time in years. I must note that no one in my house has it and for that I'm incredibly grateful (particularly given I've observed the kind of bravery one requires to navigate its journey and I'm convinced it's not in me) but I've lived relatively closely with it for years, on and off.
Yesterday we said goodbye to one of our dear family members, aged 46, mother of two beloved teenage boys who fought the bravest of battles for twelve years. In February, we said goodbye to my dear friend, aged 41, mother of three beloved children who I was lucky enough to share a wonderful five year friendship with as she battled so galantly. Both had cancer, both were incredibly positive and brave mothers, and both left us with many important life lessons while they were here; lessons that mean even more to us now that they're gone.
So perhaps it's time for cancer to just sod off and give everyone some health and happiness for a while, eh? We need to now focus on the healing of our friends and loved ones who remain, instead of living with the impending grey cloud of sadness, the roller coaster ride of test results, and the private dread that comes with observing (or living with) a terminal illness.
And that is all I'll say about that. Much love to the two special people in my world who are now at peace. Always with us, remembered with love, never forgotten.
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