Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all the mum's reading this, and I have spent the whole day thinking of those mums who aren't with us.

Mother's Day is the hardest day of the year for me. There's not really a way to escape from it and during the weeks building up I keep thinking about what to get my mum and then remembering I can't get her anything. I have spent the day crying and mourning her, and I wasn't going to post a blog today but then I thought now would be the perfect time to share my happy memories of her and let everyone know how amazing she really was.

This morning I decided to scroll through her facebook and look at her previous posts and it just reminded me of how sweet she really was. The majority of her posts were about her family and how much she loved us or how proud she was of us. I found a couple I really liked:

"Spent a lovely night eating chocolate, watching The Proposal, Four Christmases and Love Actually with my little girl Shannen, perfect." I'd forgotten that she always called me her little girl, no matter how old I was and I remembered the film nights we used to share with each other and just spend some quality time together.

Another was "Good Luck Shannen for first day at City College, Norwich doing journalism. Proud of you. Love Mum xx" Everyone always tells me how proud she was/would be of me but it's nice to see it coming from her.

I also found a post about a family day out she was planning. For weeks she'd been talking about it and had got a frisbee for us to play with. For some reason my brother and I were talking about the frisbee on Facebook and mum had put 'don't worry I won't forget it.' It had been sitting next to the front door for ages and for some reason she was really excited about the frisbee. When we got there, we unloaded the car and to her dismay she had forgotten the frisbee. I couldn't stop laughing as the whole day had been centered around it and we'd talked about it for ages and then, bless her, she left it by the front door and it never got used!

My favourite thing about her is when I got hyper and was being silly she'd just laugh and seem to enjoy it. When other people would be embarrassed she still looked so proud. I never ever had to question our bond...we argued a lot and I wish I could take every mean word back..but even when we did argue it would be over in a few minutes and we'd be best friends again.

I remember a few weeks before she died I was having a typical girl meltdown and saying to her I wish I was prettier and thinner and looked like other girls. I remember saying 'I just wish I was perfect' and she looked me straight in the eyes and said "but you are perfect." I'll always treasure that memory and that one comment has given me so much confidence.

She gave us so many opportunities. I never remember her going out when we were little because shesaved every penny she had to take us to America and Turkey to visit our aunty and uncle and cousin. Even though I knew she couldn't afford it she scraped together money to send me to New York with the school and when it was my prom she made sure I got the dress I wanted. With some much needed pressure she helped me to behave at school, when I was on the verge of being kicked out and she inspired me to go to university and make something of myself.

On christmases she would spend the exact same amount on us - down to the penny. On my birthday she would give me a garden party and let me have as many people over as I wanted. Considering how clean she liked the house, she never complained about throwing me a party. On my 18th she had decorated the house for me.

She was so sweet and thoughtful and I'm sure there are many more stories I could tell you but I can't think of them all now. It makes me happy we have Red Wellies to not only raise Brain Tumour awareness but to also keep her memory alive.

So on this Mother's Day, if you are lucky enough to still have your mum, give her a hug or kiss or phone call and tell her how much you love her and appreciate every tiny detail about her.

#WearAHatDay

Today is national Wear A Hat day. This is a significant day to those suffering with brain tumours of to the family members of someone who has/had a brain tumour.

As you've probably heard me mention before Brain tumours are so underfunded that there has been no major break through in research since the 1960s. For people affected by Brain tumours this is  hugely frustrating  and means that so many lives have been lost unnecessarily.

Wear a Hat Day is not asking for donations (although any will be greatly appreciated) it is simply asking for your help to raise awareness. Without people like you raising awareness people won't know how desperately underfunded brain cancer is and how hard we have to work to get its plight out  there.

Last week saw millions participate in the no make up selfie  (and some of you men wearing make up) which was fantastic. This is a little less scary so hopefully we can get a lot of people involved. All you need to do is find a hat - any hat will be fine - and upload a selfie of you in it with the hashtag #WearAHatDay. If you follow red wellies on any form of social media please tag us we'd love to see them!

Donations can be made by visiting www.redwellies.info

What Would You Do?

I am joined to a forum on Facebook where the family members of a person suffering with GBM can go to talk and ask advice from people who have been in similar situations. While I have never posted on there, it feels less lonely to know that other people have been in the same situation. But it also doubles the heartbreak knowing that there are still thousands of people in the world suffering as my mum did and we're still not much closer to finding a cure.

While browsing through the forum I came across an interesting question. Having been to the Drs with her ill family member, a woman had stayed behind after the appointment to ask the doctor how long was left for them. He replied that there wasn't long. The question was do I tell them how long they have left?

This story probably got my attention as something similar happened with my mum. She had been to her consultation and my aunt had seen in the docotors face that if the next round of chemo didn't work mum wouldn't have long left. I have to check with my aunt, but I believe she told us what she knew but not my mum. I mean, how could you tell someone you love that they don't have long left?

I remember her telling me but I was in such denial that I ingored her (sorry Hayley!). It never even crossed my mind to tell mum, how was I going to tell her she didn't have long left when I didn't even believe it myself. My brothers were in the same boat, I don't know if they realise themselves but all three of us were in so much denial that we just didn't believe anything would happen to her.

My aunty and uncle couldn't tell her. She was there big sister. I've never asked them but I doubt they believed it either. And there was no way my grandparents could say that to their daughter.

But then would mum have wanted to know? We could have asked the Dr to talk to her, but would she actually want to know? Although she had this awful disease she was making the most of life and enjoying every day. Would it have stopped her fight right in it's tracks if we had told her? Would she have been able to take the news?

She very rarely spoke of her illness to me and only ever touched upon the subject of her not being once. So I don't know what she knew, I don't know if she could feel how ill she was or could see in our faces we knew something was up. But I couldn't bare for her to feel any of the fear I was feeling deep inside. If I could have taken all the fear in the world just to make sure she didn't feel any, I would have in a heartbeat.

Maybe she was doing the same. I know she'd have done anything for her family and she'd have taken on the world so we were okay. So maybe we were all hiding one big secret that we all knew.

But if I were going to give this lady advice I'd say don't tell them. I'd rather be making happy memories than having morbid talks. When mum got diagnosed I saw her suddenly get a thirst for life and she was constantly taking us somewhere or planning something. (She always took her camera with her and took photos of every tiny thing. Even them photos are a small comfort, I look at them and see something she enjoyed and wanted to capture).

 In her final week I saw her put up the strongest fight and even then when she was semi conscious she was fighting for her independence. I feel like this conversation would have put a dampner on her spark and maybe have given us even less time with her. What do you all think?