They Say Time Heals All.....

This is going to be the toughest, hardest blog post to write out of all past and future ones. I'm going to share with everyone about my mum's battle with cancer and how I was affected after her passing.

When you are young and growing up, you always see your parents as invincible, nothing can stop them, and they will always be around forever. I was no different, I always thought mum would always be around, to look after me, through thick and thin, sadly, it wasn't to be.

When I was 14, mum was diagnosed with the big C, cancer. Now I don't remember much during the start of this ordeal, but I do remember when she told me. She told me at the kitchen table around dinner time, for her it must of been the hardest thing to do, to tell your children you don't know how much longer you are going to be around. My reaction, well, I didn't know how to react. I did not know much about cancer, and even at 14, I still believed she couldn't leave me.

We were told she still had many years left in her with treatment, so she underwent treatment for it. I remember one day being down at the oval with a mate, just chilling, and we had a little talk about it and we heard of them curing cancer within 2 years or so, and I felt hope for mum as the doctors said she would live for longer.

Things took a turn for the worst, and mum wasn't responding and was getting worst with times, and them years were suddenly cut back to 6 months. 2 or 3 days later, an ambulance was called to our house at 3am and one of the drivers, Alister (who was one of the drivers who delivered me) made a small joke which I won't ever forget. As they were taking her down the hallway, he said in just a calm, soothing voice "Well Merry, you aren't talking much" and if you ever met my mum, you would know she was quite the chatter. Now Alister was being offensive, or mean, he was trying to lighten the mood of a very terrifying situation. Then after his joke, he then said the most devastating thing a child could hear "You better say your goodbyes to mum now"

After she was rushed of to Corowa hospital, dad put us to bed and told us we will see her in the morning.

In the morning we went to Corowa to see mum, and she was not in a good way. I don't remember much in the hospital, but I do remember giving mum my final goodbye kiss, telling her I love her and how I'm going to miss her. I then stood there, and my mum peacefully drifted off.

In a way, it was nice to see her go peacefully, surround by family and her best friend, and sadly two members of the family weren't able to be there, but we all knew they were there in spirit, and mum knew it too.

After we got home, I did not how to feel. All I could do is go over to our park, and attempt to shoot some hoops. However, I just couldn't concentrate, and ended up kicking the ball away in anger.

Dad offered us kids to stay home and not worry about school, but I told him I wanted to go and be with my friends. So the morning after mum passed away, I woke up for school, however, it was the last thing on my mind, so I stayed home.

A few days later we had mum's funeral, and all I could remember is seeing the hertz take mum away. At 15 years old, it isn't the easiest thing to watch. The whole town and them some showed up for the funeral, and it was only a testament to how much she was loved and respected in the community, and all I wanted to do during the funeral was scream at the top of lungs so she would hear "All these people are here for you mum"


I don't believe in God, or heaven, or hell, but for some reason when I think about mum, I don't know, I think she is somewhere peaceful, looking down on us, and telling everyone around her "That's my son!"

During the rest of high school, it wasn't the easiest time, as I was very up-and-down, one day I could be happy and carefree, the next 3 days I wouldn't talk to anyone. I was forced to see the school councilor, which made things worst when only 5 months after mum's passing she said "It's time to move on and get over it" It's not the most comforting thing, let me tell you.

It's been over 6 years since she passed away, and in the those 6 years, mum physically missed two weddings, uni graduations, high school graduations and several smaller milestones, but we all know spiritually she was there, with bells on, telling everyone, "That's my boy".

They say time heals all, well, 6 years and counting and I still miss her like crazy, I think about her all the time, and when birthdays and Christmas' roll around, it gets particularly hard.

I have a lot of happy memories with my mum, and I also have that memory of her being rushed out of home at 3am, and the memory of her passing away. 6 years, and it hasn't gotten any easier, and I don't expect it to in the future.

I'm sorry, I don't know what to even write now. I guess I just wish I could just pick up the phone and call mum, just to hear her voice once more, and to tell her that I still love her and miss her and want her to come home.

Mum, if you finally learnt how to use a computer for something else other than solitaire, and you managed to find this blog up there, which I assume someone found for you, I just want to say, I love you and miss you.