Family, Faith and Fear

This weekend has actually been quite good. Although some people have said that I seem a bit angry ( I do however believe this is due to the fact that I'm now off my nicotine replacement patches)

Friday ended up being a nightmare, I managed to get mum some anti sickness drugs from the cancer unit, after two trips to the unit which is about 11 miles away! I was a bit angry when I turned up at 4.45pm, I know the unit closes at 5pm but guess what? no-one was there!!!

I ended up texting my sister, saying ring the unit and tell them to let me in. After a quick trip to the hospital pharmacy and huffing and carrying my two year old (who for some reason flatly refused to walk at this point), we got the drugs!

Everything you read always tell you to try and maintain your normal routine so as Saturday Mornings for the past two years has consisted of me mum and my son, going to a little cafe for breakfast, we thought we would still go, even if she had something small to eat.

As we are still waiting for a wheelchair I was very aware of how to drop her off, I ended up pulling up right outside the cafe on a busy main road and trying to get that close to the cafe door as possible I managed to clip my wing mirror on the roadside sign they have. lol.

Apparantly mum now thinks I'm trying too hard!

She managed to eat something and is gradually getting her appetite back, which I suppose is a good sign.

Saturday afternoon saw me having a houseful of family members, Aunt, Uncle, Cousin, as well as our imediate family, which was nice, just all sat about chatting. A few watery eyes as for them it was the first time they had seen mum since the diagnosis.

I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that when terrible things like this happen people start to turn to Religion and faith, or even sometimes turn their back on their faith.

As a relatively new member of the Unitarian Church, I have my own views on all this, and a few conversations over the weekend have led me to question certain things and my own beliefs.

I suppose that although I may have appeared sombre and a bit meloncholy over the weekend I have been thinking, but then all this thinking seems to has ultimatley led to one thing.....fear.

Fear for myself, fear for my family, and ultimately, fear for my mum.

How scary is that? to be told that you may only have a few months left, I've been thinking ' how would I feel if it was me?'

and I think the answer is this - Firstly my thoughts would turn to my son. He's only two.

So how does my mum feel, three of us to think of, I know we are grown up's now but to her I guess we will always be her babies.

I havnt spoke to my mum in depth about how she truly feels about the diagnosis yet, but her initial reactions were very matter of fact, firstly that she had brought it all on herself with smoking for all them years, and then very astutely "Well what am I going to do with myself for the next twenty years...........watch Jeremy Kyle?"

People fear death because it truely is the unknown, and all we have is our own faith and beliefs.

What is sad is that I feel like my life is just starting, a two year old son, a new relationship, a new approach and understanding of life through my church. She isnt going to be around to see how it all unfolds.

The fear for myself comes in many forms, yesterday when she was playing with my son, I made a point of looking at her in the hope that I will be able to remember that image forever.

And there we have it, my eyes are suddenly leaking.