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Unexpected, unsolicited, relentless…

I wrote this post on 29 January 2017, but never published it, it was too raw, too difficult for me to read back, let alone to allow it to be read by people out there in the ether of the online world.  I have done a lot of personal healing and growing since this very bleak day earlier this year, so now I feel I am ready to let it go and allow others to see the raw emotions that made me write it in the first place.

It was spring and something changed; I had survived my first winter in a foreign land. Cold like I’d never experienced in my life, the kind that gets inside your bones and sinews and no matter what you do it never leaves you. The culture shock! I spoke the language but somehow couldn’t communicate with people, words seemed to have a different meaning to the one assigned to them in the dictionary. Sarcasm, irony and mockery were the order of the day but it made understanding people’s intentions nigh on impossible, were they being friendly or trying to take advantage of me? I was working so hard just to keep the wolf away, money was tight (sometimes not enough to feed myself) and yet I knew that if I could hang on for a little longer I would make it a success. I hadn’t migrated nearly five thousand miles searching for a better life just to flounder at the first hurdle.

We met one Sunday morning, I had travelled from up north to London; for the first time since arriving in this country I had the opportunity to see the big city and marvel at its amazing buildings new and old and bear witness to what every migrant must feel when faced with its famous streets, that indeed they are paved in gold! Oh the opportunities!

My friend, your friend, our friend, had arranged a meet up for breakfast at your local cafe, where we were to meet you and his sister.  I assumed you and our friend’s sister were a couple, so was taken aback when your attention seemed to be solely directed at me and my daughter, but hey I was in a foreign land and when in Rome do as the romans. So I reciprocated by directing all my attention, out of politeness, to you, ignoring our mutual friend and his sister. That didn’t go down very well with our friend, so instead of building bridges I had burnt one. Of course I didn’t realise at the time that our friend’s interest in me was more than for friendship, I was naive.

Unexpected, unsolicited, relentless… you made your way into my life and took a keen interest in everything I did, planned and dreamt of. I had no idea what your intentions were and had far too much turmoil in my personal life to really pay attention, so I just dismissed your efforts. I didn’t know where admiration ended and mockery started, so I remained distant. But you didn’t give up, nowadays your behaviour would be considered stalking, back then it was just sweet, I was naive.

I was not looking for a relationship, I was already in one which I wanted desperately to end. So no jumping out of the pan and straight into the fire, I said to myself. But you wouldn’t give up, it was so hard for me not to give in. And when I did, your love was beautiful, gentle, tender, all-consuming, loyal; I was not used to it, until that point in my life love had been hurtful, deceiving, betraying. Your kind of love made me feel scared because it was so different, unexpected, unsolicited, relentless.

You showed me how to be kind to myself, how to accept the kindness of others, you brought calm to my soul and held my heart safely in your hands. You made me happy. You made my world complete. You made me a better person and because of your love I was able to love you back in the same beautiful, gentle, tender, all-costuming and loyal way you loved me.

And so we started our lives together, enjoying each other’s quirks, making each other stronger, making plans, falling in love.  You were in a hurry, you said, you were not getting any younger and until you found me you never thought you were going to marry or have a family; you were so happy to be a father to my daughter and proclaimed that I was the best mother you had ever met. Marriage, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us apart, we promised; followed swiftly by two beautiful children and making our forever home together, I still hungry for adventure, you content with allowing me space to follow my dreams, because as you said, yours had come true the day we met.

And so fifteen years of domesticity, every day hum drum, paying the bills, bringing up the children, “who is doing the shopping this week?”, “shall I cook tonight?”, “it’s in the calendar, so it’s happening”, just trying our best to keep the love alive.

And then everything changed, dammed blasted alien took hold of you, unexpected, unsolicited, relentless, invading your body and your soul. It attempted to destroy everything we had worked so hard to build together. It really did try its hardest to get in between us, and I had to put all my strength into reminding you of our sweet, tender, all-consuming love; our promise was tested, oh we were tested! And just as we thought there could be no more tests, we had shown our promise to be as strong as iron, the same invading alien took hold of my body. It devastated you, as you knew the alien was robbing you of your life and your strength at the very moment when I needed to be cared for, yet you couldn’t be there for me. Your body was ravaged, where once stood a strong, athletic, powerful man, the alien consumed you, leaving a paralysed mumbling wreck, taking you away from me, from your children, from your friends, to a land where we are not allowed to visit

And now you’re no longer here, I try so hard to hold on to the memories; eighteen years and yet all I can see is how everything changed.

My cancer diagnosis

Originally posted on Facebbok 18 November 2015

Hello everyone…. There are some news I must share with you; some of you already know.

Those of you whom I haven’t managed to tell you in person I’m really sorry that you’re finding out this way…

On 6 October 2015 I was diagnosed with Neuroendocrine Tumours (NETs) a cancer in the small intestine with metastasis in the liver and lymph nodes.
I started treatment straight away and have been told there’ll be surgery (January/February) to remove the primary tumour and debulk the liver. Further treatment will be needed after surgery but I’m focusing on the here and now.

Most of you know that in the past 2 years I have accomplished great things, marathon, half marathon, 10k, triathlon… As well as raising a considerable amount of money for charity.

Running keeps me sane. My oncologist has encouraged me to carry on running and I intend to do so; although it’s frustrating as I’m starting to slow down and not able to run long distances any more.

I don’t believe in miracles and it’s been a long time now since I lost my faith in the existence of a deity or the purpose of religion; to those you who do have faith I hope you’ll still be my friend after such a revelation.

I understand how cancer behaves because of the experience we’ve had as a family with Michael’s own cancer. I’m also a realist but an optimistic one.

I trust my oncologist and other consultants have my best interests at heart; I also trust their knowledge and experience. I also want you to know that this is not a fight, nor a war, it’s neither a journey, I’m not a soldier and I have nowhere to travel… I’m a pacifist so the language of war does not inspire me.

People ask me what can they do for me and my family… This is a difficult one to answer, sometimes we ourselves don’t know what we need. But one thing is certain please do not become strangers; I might not always be able to reply to messages, it takes a lot of energy just to keep up with normal life, but please do not give up on us!

I also intend to have as much fun as I can, life is hard enough as it is, I intend to laugh, dance and jump for joy at every opportunity.

I’m signing off now must catch some 💤💤💤😴😴😴 have a big hug from me.

When Michael died

Originally posted on Facebook on 16 January 2016

On 15 January at 22:55 (GMT) my amazing and courageous husband died.I have lost my soulmate, my best companion and friend

My children have lost the best father.

Michael was a very good man, who lived life to the full and loved to make people smile and he would have wanted to be remembered not with sadness but as the happy man he was. Michael always managed to light up a room and ever the entertainer would always tell a story about life…. He was full of enthusiasm, a true character, one of a kind…

Michael loved running, Tangle Foot beer and AFC Bournemouth, as well as walking in the Dorset countryside….I’m not sure if in that order…

Right now I can’t imagine life without him, I’m missing him terribly…

I want to say a heartfelt thank you to the nurses, doctors and staff at the Forest Holme Hospice for the extraordinary care they gave Michael and our family during his stay there. They made us feel at home and looked after Michael during the most difficult time of his life in a way that was caring, kind and compassionate. Words are just not enough to demonstrate my gratitude.

I love you Michael