Dear Rosie,

We feel our distance today -

we feel so very far away

but that isn’t worrying you any more.

That’s good.

You shouldn’t be in pain -

not you

not ever

but cancer has no sensibilities, does it.

No rhyme or reason.

No fairness.

I will miss you a lot.

I miss you already.

I’ve missed you since you were diagnosed, nine months ago.

It feels as though we lost a big part of you then.

It’s been an honour to know you -

your passion for undoing all of society’s wrongs

your kindness

and your gentle spirit.

You were all things good in this world.

Life will never be the same without you here.

Nobody tells you the rules when you are dealing with illness.

Nobody says when it’s okay to ring, what to say, how to cope.

You just bumble along and hope that it’s the right thing to do

and then it gets to be too late

and things are left unsaid.

When I was scared and just 19,

you took me in.

You trusted your son and you accepted me as one of your own.

I’ve always loved you for that and I’m not sure I’ve ever thanked you.

Not enough, anyway.

I know it was really hard work

and difficult

and different

but you didn’t give up.

Not once.

I need to thank you, for bringing up your beautiful boy just right.

He is amazing and you should be  so proud.

I know it hasn’t been roses, all of the time.

We’ve had some issues, along the road  but I was silly and naive

and you were as patient as could be.

You helped me to grow

as a mother

as a wife

as a person.

You’ve helped to bring our children up to be these amazing creatures

and I see parts of you in them every day.

I’m grateful for that.

I’m thankful for you.

All of those days when I was at University, all the times I was at work, you were there for them.

When I’ve had to be with Ivy in the hospital you’ve looked after them without question.

You’ve been their world.

The kids love you like there is no tomorrow,

which there will be no more of now.

There are no more days to spend sitting with you around the table,

drinking tea

eating ‘Mac and Cheese’

or Chilli Philly dip.

There have been a lot of tears.

Maddy was in panic mode -

she wanted to be with you as you took your last great leap of faith

and Immy is looking for answers

she is being philosophical.

It’s hard to see  all of  them have the realisation that they won’t see you anymore,

hear your voice,

your laugh,

your deceptively wicked sense of humour -

that there will be no more scone making days with Grandma.

I know how much you would want to protect them from this.

They would give you the world if they could.

We all would.

Dave is so much like you.

He has bunkered down and he’s not saying much at all.

Keeping his emotions close.

I can see him struggling but he was thinking of you all the time.

I promise  that I will look after them well.

The thing I hoped you knew

is that you were loved.

We all love you very much.

I love you.

I hope your passage was swift

and safe.

I hope you have no more pain wherever it is you have gone to.

We will  hold you close to our hearts forever.

Namaste, Rosie.