questions

It’s coming up to twelve months since we sat and watched your uncle John wither and age before our very eyes as the cancer took hold. At first it took his voice, a voice I miss so much, because he always had a wise word or a sarcastic comment, you loved that about him too, he was always interested in what you were doing at college. Often he’d joke about your choice in clothing because for some strange reason clothing had to have holes, so your jeans with holes in the knees that cost me a fortune were a subject of great entertainment to him.
Then, on the 12th of July the cancer having spread, wreaking havoc on his body, it stole his last breath. You came and witnessed how heartbroken we all were Neve, overwhelmingly sad at losing such a well loved family member to the most hideous of diseases.
I’ve thought back to those days so much. Had you already made your plan to leave? I go over every hour meticulously looking at each moment in time wondering what I’d missed, the memories frustratingly dim and unclear.
You had been there when the Macmillan nurse visited and you’d gone home and researched nursing as a career. I think you’d have made a good nurse, just because you cared. You’d have made a good anything though. Growing up I always told you that you could be anything you wanted to be. Did you think because you didn’t have a set path you were no good?
Our current college and university system doesn’t allow us choice, you must select a path and stick to it. So hard when I brought you up to wander from the path and look at all the options. You loved horses and applied for BSc equine science but you excelled at psychology and wanted to do that too. Sadly since you’ve gone I've discovered someone who combines both and uses horses for therapy, can you imagine that Neve?
It’s so sad, your irrational, in the moment act has left me reeling, feeling like I did everything wrong and its left me second guessing every aspect of my life. I look back at our lives and I know you had a happy childhood. You had two loving parents who cherished you, you were my best friend and I thought you could tell me anything, but I was wrong, was that a failing on my part? Why didn’t you tell me? Again my mind goes back to this time last year and how preoccupied and shocked we were, how you would come and stop at your Aunty Pams with me. How you asked to come into work with me. How you always asked what are we doing today Mum? It’s all so clear now, you were distracting yourself from the darkness that pursued you and I didn’t even know. The darkness that consumed you and wouldn’t let you return to us, ever again.
So, I was wrong last year. Cancer isn’t the worst disease I could ever imagine, the worst disease is one whose death rate could quite easily be reduced if it weren’t for ignorance and stigma. Anxiety and depression are killers. Imagine an illness that goes unseen and unheard, that makes you secretive and unwilling to seek help from the right people. An illness that tells you you’re unworthy of life and you’re a burden. An illness that shuts down all your hopes and dreams.
Sadly, we may never see a cure for all the different forms of cancer in our lifetime because of the sheer complexity of the disease but I wish with all my heart that we could.
Anxiety and depression don’t always lead to suicide but when suicidal ideation rears its ugly head, talking and reaching out is the panacea, it really is ok to not be ok.
I have so many questions Neve, questions with no answers.

Miss you beyond the stars Nevey

Mum x