http://anyotherwoman.com/2011/12/on-divorce/

That is all.

Well what do you know.

Managed to do something I've been meaning to do for ages and write the story of the divorce. Amazingly didn't make myself cry but it was harder to make it flow than I expected. And then I sent it to the lovely girls at http://www.anyotherwoman.com and they liked it. Er, who'd have thought it?

DND

...which stands for Decree Nisi Day.

Today.

Next stage of the divorce. First stage of the rest of my life.

It's funny how quickly not being Mrs C anymore feels natural and actually good. Not bad. Positive. Free.

Waking the dead.

Back home with my dad for the weekend and went to mum's grave this afternoon and had a little chat with her. Told her about my week, my new job, about M. I liked it that her grave was absolutely covered in flowers -not just ours :-)

I just so wish everything was different, even now.

Enough now.

Terrible day.

Spoke to M earlier for the first time in nearly 6 months, about what he wanted to do with the stuff that's still here (ie. in my house, which I will be selling soon in view new job). We were both coldly and icily polite to one another. It was horrible.

And I MISS MY MUM.

When a (wo)man is tired of London, (s)he is tired of life

Squeeeee. I'm doing it, I'm really doing it. I'm moving to London. New job starts in February!

I didn't think the interview went too well but to my utter amazement today I had a phonecall to offer me the job!!!!

Am very pleased, but when I put the phone down the first person I wanted to tell was Mum, and I hate it that I can't just pick up the phone and ring her any more. Dad told me she'd have been proud -I hope so.

Bah humbug.

I cried torrentially when I was driving yesterday because that stupid song 'All I want for Christmas is you' came on the radio and all I could think was 'all I want for Christmas is for my mum to be here with us'.

After the funeral.

I survived. The day was cold but very sunny, the sort of day she liked. As we expected, the church was PACKED -the priests came out to greet us and said 'it's standing room only in there!' I managed the whole reading, did wobble a bit especially the last line 'love one another as I have loved you', but the worst bit was seeing the coffin going into the grave. In fact crying now just remembering it.

Several of my friends made a huge effort to be there (including one friend who came all the way from the Isle of Man!) which was lovely.

Definitely now starting to realise she's really gone and isn't coming back.

F-day

T -4 hours to funeral.

I can't decide if I want it to be over or not. I kind of do, kind of don't. I feel like once it's over, this horrible feeling I have of 'being in limbo' might disappear, as if I might be able to go back to my normal life -back to living in my own house, back to work, seeing friends. But the truth is, I know that's not possible. My life will never be the same again because my mum will no longer be the person I speak to every day, the person I ask for advice, the person who knows me best in the whole world.

Once the funeral's over, I'll have said goodbye 'for good', and it will really be the end of my fantastic mum -except for in my head and heart.

Onwards and...

Popped 'home' to my own house today for the day to check on the house. Also found a letter from my solicitor, decree nisi date is 6th December, urrrgh. Surprised to find that that still hurts, thought that after the much worse blow of Mum that the divorce wouldn't bother me, but it seems it does...still. I still hate that I'm going to be a 'divorcee'.

Got home to find my aunts had cooked a nice dinner. Next week will be the great test, I am going back to work on Monday and the aunts are leaving then too, so Dad and I will have to, well, just deal with things I guess.

Funeral plans are coming along. I'm doing the Bible reading as it was what Mum wanted. Terrified I'll cry buckets on the day and let everyone down :-(

Intangibly different.

The last couple of days have been very, very surreal. Despite how many times I've said to myself 'I'll never have another conversation with Mum, I'll never ask her advice again' etc, it's still not really hit me. The stuff that gets me is thinking that I'll end up buying my own Xmas presents because Dad won't know what to get me, unlike Mum. All stupid stuff. Oh well. Funeral planned for next Friday and I'll be going back to work the following Monday.

Feel very sad and a little disloyal about leaving Dad on his own, but in a few weeks I'll hopefully be living much closer.

Life as we know it...

...is over.

Mum died at 9.30pm tonight.

Nothing will ever be the same again.

Ticking the boxes

My aunts made it in time. Phew. They're with her now, don't think she's managing to respond to them at all but at least they are here with her and talking to her.

Don't think she has the energy to keep going much longer.

All night long

Staying in hospice with Mum tonight. Just got a funny feeling.

Can't get over how this time last week I was making plans for Christmas with her...

The drugs don't work.

Mum comfortable but much weaker. Very confused now which I find the hardest bit. She now has diamorph and haloperidol in the SD along with the octreotide. Had a bit of midaz for agitation which seemed to help. Have a horrible fear that I've heard her speak and maybe even open her eyes for the last time.

Desperate for her to just hang on til Thursday.

Precious in so many ways.

All 4 sisters flying in Thursday morning. :-) because she will be pleased to see them, though it will be a bit harder for dad and me (we can't feed them ready meals and sandwiches which is what we've been living on!) but it will be worth it for her.

Again she's a little weaker today but still managing to talk/respond. Lots of visitors today, and while it's lovely that everyone wants to come and see her, I only got about an hour with her today :-( but she managed to say to me 'I'm going to miss you, you were so precious to me' which was so special to hear :-D

She's definitely staying put in hospice for now, apparently she told consultant on the ward round that she wanted to stay and the nurse in charge this afternoon told us that they, like us, think she is deteriorating quite fast.

I feel oddly empty inside.

Downhill all the way

Mum has deteriorated incredibly fast over the past few days. Considering it is exactly a week ago today that she went into hospital and at that time she walked from the car into the hospital, it's unbelievable that now she can barely stand (definitely needs assistance of 2), very drowsy, a little confused... Yesterday I managed to get her to eat a little bit with encouragement +++ but today that didn't really happen. She's still just about recognising people and talking but not much. Yesterday she said herself 'I think maybe I'm better off here because I don't think you two will manage at home', I feel awful that she thinks we wouldn't be able to manage, but at the same time I kind of think it's the right decision... I don't know.

Her 4 sisters want to fly over from America but it's quite difficult to know what to say to them to advise them on what is best to do... They're talking about flying out next weekend and based on how fast she's deteriorating at the moment I'm a bit scared that might be too late.

Utter devastation...

...or, how do you respond when the person you love most in the world says to you 'I so want to live'??

God, the last 36hrs have been HARD. Considering how long I've known my mum's diagnosis and that I always knew what the outcome would be, I am surprised by how upset I was when I heard the result of the CT scan and what it meant. That afternoon was one of the most surreal experiences of my life as the 3 of us sat in the hospital partially discussing incredibly emotional stuff like how we're going to manage her death and partly discussing incredibly practical stuff (like ways of avoiding inheritance tax).

Just when I kept thinking I was holding it together, something else would make me cry -Mum saying 'you two will have to be strong for each other' or Dad saying 'I've been so proud to be your partner'. Or worst of all, that comment above, 'I so want to live'. God, it's horrible sitting right in the middle of a hospital ward with tears pouring down your face.

Mum is so desperate to come home to die, that we're going to have to find a way to make it happen, which scares me because I've seen so many palliative patients in the community end up in crisis. I'm terrified it will reach midnight on a Saturday and she'll be in pain and we won't be able to get hold of anyone to help... Hopefully it won't be like that, district nurses and carers etc to help out and we'll manage but still....am scared. She only really agreed to go to the hospice for the weekend because we haven't yet got services in place, a hospital bed at home etc etc. She's keen to come home on Monday/Tuesday....Very scared and think Dad has underestimated how hard it will be for all of us. But mustn't stop Mum having what she wants because I'm a wuss.

I felt awful calling work and saying I wouldn't be in next week, hugely un-me, have never taken time off. They were sympathetic, of course, who wouldn't be but I still feel bad. I haven't missed a single day of work throughout the whole of the last 16 months when mum was diagnosed, started chemo, dad went into hospital for his op, when M left... I've just kept right on going, but now I really feel I can't leave Dad on his own. Have some supportive friends and Dad and I are trying to look after each other -I make him eat, he tries to stop me crying!!

I have no idea what is around the next corner.

...and ever downwards

Malignancy has progressed, liver full of mets and spleen now involved too. Primary tumour has got so big it's completely obstructing bowel, hence the vomiting. Saw consultant this evening, nothing more they can do.

On the plus side they have got her a bed in the local hospice, which is probably the best place for her. She's being transferred there tomorrow morning. She's not TOO nauseous and she's currently in no pain at all.

I want things to go back to how they were.

Slippery slope.

Mum is in hospital, vomiting and abdo pain, ?bowel obstruction. Dehydrated and on IV fluids. She's having morphine for pain and the fact she's agreed to have morphine (the woman who doesn't even like taking paracetamol!) is the thing that really tells me something's bad.

I'm scared.

Things I have lost...

...today:

- my grey hairband that I use at the gym
- my Kindle charger

In the bigger scheme of things, not that important. But yet another small annoyance in all the annoyances that are part of my current life.

Answers on a postcard...

....why do I continue to buy Revels when, in fact, I do not like the raisin, orange or caramel ones? I suppose there is a, marginally, greater than 50% chance that I will get one I do like - chocolate, peanut, Malteser or (whisper it) coffee- am I the only person in the world who likes coffee Revels?? But I digress -who'd take that chance??

In the beginning, there was a blog

So, quite literally, where do I begin?
At the beginning?
To plagiarise (sort of) one of my utter, utter idols Gwen Stefani of No Doubt, 'I'm just a girl, trying to make sense of her world'. One of these days I will manage it. One of these days I'll come to terms with the person I've become over the last year -a totally different person from who I was for the 29 years before that. But until then...I'm just hanging on, trying to enjoy the ride, and trying to make sense of my world.