365 days later…

On this day, 365 days ago, my Mum breathed her final breath. The one woman who loved me unconditionally all the days of my life was taken from me. All because of the disease that seems to be attacking more and more people. No longer is this a disease one hears about it from afar. Slowly but surely, this disease is creeping into our inner circles. And the worst part is, tragedy hits you when you’re least expecting it.

This year has not been an easy one and so to honour my Mum on this auspicious day, I thought I would share the speech I made at her memorial…

As morbid as it sounds, my Mum and I had spoken about this moment many times. She wanted to be sure of a few things to make sure the day was right.

She didn’t want this to be a sad occasion so she didn’t want us wearing black. Let’s face it, she was one of the most colourful people I will ever know, so it’s fitting that there is so much colour in this room today. Secondly, she didn’t want any photos being shown of her looking less than fabulous which is easy to do because there aren’t any. She always looked fabulous and glamorous, always! And finally, she was adamant there were to be no tears of sadness shed. I will try very hard to honour this last wish but seeing as my Mum was one of my favourite people to ever walk this earth – this might prove difficult.

Some might say I was raised by a Tiger Mom. Not towards us but FOR us. If anyone dare attempt to criticise one of her cubs – she was ready to pounce. She was fiercely protective of us but still allowed us the freedom to be our own unique souls.

I will remember my childhood as being creative and carefree. I used to dress up in my mum’s favourite outfits, not her old ones, but current favourites. So much so that when she went shopping she would pull out the monopoly money I had been making my ‘purchases’ with. There were no limits to our creativity. I was allowed to make fudge even when it brimmed over in the microwave and spilt all over her beautiful kitchen counter.  I was allowed to graffiti the garage walls so I could host a party for my birthday. I need to remember this lesson going forward in my life… Now that I am a Mom myself, if my children want to make fudge in my kitchen unassisted or be let loose with paintbrushes in my garage….mmm….I would be a tad more hesitant. But she left me to it and never interfered or reprimanded.

My Mum LOVED to cook! I think my whole family will remember the time when she discovered coriander. Well, for the next year every dish she made had some creative way of including coriander. Most children grow up eating mac and cheese or spag bol. Not for us though. We grew up eating something experimental every night. It was a culinary adventure. This almost put me off food for life when she tried to convince me that tripe was calamari. This did not end well!

I will always be enormously grateful to my Mum for noticing my love of music and dance at a young age. She signed me up for ballet at 3 years old and from there my love relationship with dance began. She was always my biggest fan. She attended every single show I performed in. The spectators always knew when she was in the audience because before every one of my dancers during the black out, she would exclaim in her loudest voice: ‘There’s my Girl!’

It is because of my Mum that I have felt able to achieve so many of my dreams. She made me believe in myself and have the confidence to approach any situation. She made me feel I could be anything, do anything. I used to ask her when I was little – Mum, do you think I could dance on the west end stage one day? Her reply: ‘Of course you can. You’re amazing!’ And that was her standard answer for most questions. We could do no wrong in her eyes. I must say that being a teacher now she’s probably one of the parents I would avoid – the kind whose child is always right and the teacher must be wrong because her daughter is perfect.

As I got older, I started to see my Mum through new eyes and my respect for her only grew. One of the things I will always be immensely proud of, was her ability to never allow a circumstance or situation to define her happiness. She was a firm believer that you bring your own weather to the picnic.

After my Dad passed away almost 5 years ago now, she made the conscious decision to start over, to redefine herself. Something which not a lot of people would find easy to do after 40 years of marriage, but she did. She moved to a new town, not knowing many other people, and she began to make a life for herself. She would host tea parties and lunches and she loved every minute. The special people here from her estate today are proof of the successful new life she had created.

My Mum was diagnosed with stage four cancer in January 2014. She underwent an operation to remove it from the organs it had spread to. Unfortunately, they couldn’t remove the tumours from her liver and at her age and with her slender frame, the prognosis wasn’t positive.

But she faced her illness with strength, dignity, grace and her trademark Tiger ferocity, and she managed to fend off this predatory disease for two and a half years. She was described many times as a walking miracle, because no one really thought she would be able to fight it off as long as she did. This tiny little 71 year old woman with the strength and fight of the fiercest of competitors never allowed this cruel and debilitating predator to beat her. Her smile would cut like a beam through the darkness and she remained positive until her final days.

I have learnt so much from her but the main thing I’ve learnt is about the kind of woman I want to be in the face of adversity. A woman of strength! A woman of courage! A woman of worth!

My mum started this family tradition that whenever we would leave the house, she would say that she was on our left shoulder; guiding us, protecting us, making sure we made the right choices. On the day before she made her final exit from this world, I was walking out the door and she said to me: ‘Remember my love, I will always be on your left shoulder’. And she will be, right next to my Dad.

A family member sent me these words said by Helen Keller this week and they really touched me:

‘What we have one enjoyed, we can never lose…all that we love deeply, becomes a part of us.’

Mum, I did love you deeply and you will always be a part of me. Go peacefully, rest easily and dance gloriously with your soulmate. You won that fight! In every way and I am so proud to call you my Mum.

So this is not the full stop in our sentence but merely the ellipsis. Your memory will live on in your children and our children so Mum, this is not goodbye but dot dot dot…

And you know what? Today I am okay. I feel a sense of content knowing that she is in a far happier place than the grim reality she was facing here. I feel blessed to be surrounded by people who truly care for me, friends who consistently and genuinely want to uplift me, family who shower me with reminders of how loved I am. I am okay Mum and I know you are too…