Well here we are again, September, how fast this year is going. These past few years, as I have said in previous blogs, September has been painful, hard and sad. This year I had hoped it would be a good month, a ‘happy.’
Many years ago, September brought me the most physically painful but most wonderful of days. The happiest of my whole life to that point. I gave birth to my first daughter, Lisa Jayne on this day, the 9th. A very lengthy and difficult birth but something I am so grateful for. Although my marriage was not good at that time, having my precious baby girl, my blessing, made everything seem alright. I had often questioned my reason for ‘being’ but she made me realise why I was here. She made my life make sense.
Years later,September also brought me my very first grandson Harrison and I wasn’t ready for the huge love this tiny baby brought into my life, a love that is still here today. When I was a child, this was the time of year that we went back to school after a far too long holiday, going back was always a relief for me, for reasons some of you understand. So this last month of Summer, this first month of Autumn, became a special month. David and I chose to marry in September 31 years ago yesterday making it even more special and happy.
So this week has brought wonderful happy memories , better than the last few years but life has a way of balancing out. For every good there seems to be a bad. The year I met David, that September, saw the passing of the man who had brought me up, the man who I believed to be my father, until at the age of 17 when I discovered he wasn’t. This made so much sense to me, sense of the way he was in front of my mother. Although he wasn’t my birth father, he tried to let me know he cared. Showed he loved me, when there was no one of the family around. He was a good man. Then there is the Dad of my best-friend Carol, who along with his wife, many years ago, asked me to call them Mum and Dad as they considered me family. The love was mutual and I often, as a little girl, made up stories in my head pretending they were my parents. I loved, love them both. Sadly Mum died a few years ago and this week Dad is in hospital nearing the end of his life. I so want to be with him, with his family of which I am a part but can’t. I realise today more than ever, how distance sucks. How living so far away, having such huge commitments here, prevent such visits and stop me from seeing those I love. Having had no choice on moving here, does nothing to change the pain.
Distance has stolen such a lot from me. Along with my health, which has often affected my ability to visit people and be there for those I love. When David was first diagnosed with Prostate Cancer, I was very ill. Dizziness, sickness, being unsteady and falling about were my constant companions. Doctors at first could find nothing, I had been under a great deal of stress and I thought with David having cancer, that was the reason. But no, eventually they discovered a blocked artery above my heart and this may have been the cause. It was said that being so stressed, having worry outside of the worry of cancer with a little ‘c’, just made me worse.I had been rushed to hospital twice ,all at a time I needed to be there for my husband. Now, this September, with sick animals, Ellie nearing the time we have to make that awful decision, the ponies needing us and both of us being full up with colds, I try to console myself with the thought that no hospital would let us visit anyway. But it doesn’t stop me wanting to be with Dad.
Anticipating the death of someone you love, as some of you know too well, is horrible beyond words. Along with the day-to-day living, the happy memories of your loved one, is the constant thought of losing them. It can also drag you back, by association, to other deaths, other times of fearing the losing someone, another time previous where you have been grief-stricken. This past week particularly, I have felt sad, angry, pained and scared, all the emotions I went through during diagnosis, tests, surgery and recovery with my beloved husband David, during our journey with PC. I suppose, that although I say David ‘had’ cancer, every time I read of a death on the group, now thinking of Dad’s impending death, anticipating the grief that will follow, my tummy goes over and the ‘F’ word returns because of the ‘what ifs’. I now don’t think that will ever go.
So many deaths over the past few years, most of them to the ‘c’ word. A brother-in-law, a sister-in-law, my own sister Georgina, my best friend Mo and my Big bear, Tony. That was when I began to understand anticipatory grief for real, when we knew Tony had limited time left. Along with his children and grandchildren, I felt the awful impending pain that accompanies it. I dreaded every phone call, every meeting or email. When it came, the phone-call telling me he had died, it didn’t as I had hoped it would, bring relief. Tony had been ill and in pain for a while, so I expected the relief but no, it didn’t manifest itself. That’s the trouble with love, isn’t it. Although we ‘prepared’, when we knew his illness was not curable, when the inevitable happened it still came as a shock. Having beaten a life threatening illness 20 years previous to this, Tony would beat this wouldn’t he? But no, he didn’t and the shock was huge. Anticipating it had not lessened that.
Now, today, knowing that Dad is having end of life care, the helplessness, the worry, the pain is all back. I know he will leave us soon. We have been told that but are we prepared? Are we ever prepared for a loved one leaving us? Maybe if I had been able to see him I would be, I don’t know. Even if prepared for the pain and loss, I know when it comes, it will be huge. We all respond to loss in our own way. It is not always and only death that can bring grief, I know that but the death of people and our animals for us all, leaves us grieving. The price we pay for loving someone or loving a pet, shows at the end of their life. Grief is that price.
And then ,a few weeks ago, there was Mark. My friend whom I never met, who died from this horrid illness called PC. Distance once again got in the way of my ever meeting him. At his death we should have been prepared. He told us often enough, prepared us, in his blogs, his posts, his private messages within his faith, he told us many times that he was dying. Did we believe that? I don’t know. Did I expect it after being told? No I didn’t. Did I grieve? Yes and am still grieving. Was I ready? No I wasn’t. I suppose his faith helped him but I think, a little part of me, thought that if his God loved him, in the way Mark told me he did, told us all. If his God knew the good work he was doing, the friends he had met, the difference he was making to people’s lives, he might just spare him. Let him stay. Let him love us a bit longer. I can imagine Mark smiling at this point in my blog, saying it was in God’s plan and that he was okay with it. But plans change don’t they?However, I also know that as a child, a churchgoer, I was told ‘ours is not to reason why, we should not question God’s plans’. Should not ask Why. But I do. Sorry but I do.
One thing different this September, is that as I said last week, a legacy to me from Mark Bradford, is that I can pray again. Still not sure God is listening as I said all through my book, my life story as a child, when I prayed and prayed but nothing changed. But something that David’s recovery, things that have happened these past 2 weeks, I now have a little word I held dear throughout by younger life, before lost faith and that is Hope. I will hope that somehow my prayer for Dad is answered, even if not in the way I hope for but if his life is not spared, I am asking for an end that is peaceful, dignified and full of love. I know he knows we all love him so much but don’t want him to suffer.
So many sads but some happy’s. It is Lisa’s birthday today and for the first time in 6 years, I have been able to wish her a happy birthday and will do the same for my grandson. It doesn’t mean the past didn’t happen, it just means that life is too short, that lately I have known how fragile the thread of life is. I know how illness and time can steal from us and who knows what is to come. PC came out of the blue and wreaked havoc over our lives ‘here on the farm’ and threatened to steal my rock, my husband, away from me. Did I expect that! No and it came as a shock and left me reeling. We have no time. I also know that a mother’s love is unconditional and am out to prove that. Yesterday was David and my anniversary, 31 years and it meant more now than ever before. I value every minute I have with my man, the man who took me on with everything that came with me. He became a dad to my children and has remained true and loyal to us all. He promised to love me and care for me, as I did him, through sickness and in health and we certainly have done and will always do that. I now see him in a completely different light. He has always been honest, strong, funny and loving but the manner in which he fought PC, showed a different side, He was dignified, full of courage, pragmatic and of course his wonderful, necessary living in my family, sense of humour and fun shone through. I tell him every day and he does me, how much we love each other. I am indeed a lucky lady.
I am very aware of how some on the group, sadly have not been so lucky, so fortunate and my love goes out to them all. Those who have lost partners to PC and those who have split with them because of the changes this nasty disease can bring, I send huge hugs. I am never smug about our position, I just feel blessed and so lucky and hugely grateful that we have survived this journey none of wanted to make.Long may it last.
So September, I know you may deal us blow after blow this year. Dad, Ellie Mae, and possibly little Cody and who knows what else! I know you are going to test my reserves to the limit but with David at my side, my family almost back with me, give it your best shot ‘cos I am ready! Who knows, with the power of prayer and a little bit of hope, you may not be as bad as I am anticipating.
Thankyou for reading x
carolannwright 