Hello all of you

[Mali]

Holly, Lifes2short, Pollyanna, eitter, janb, Dana, Sweet Peg, NICK THE BRIT, missjv, Dot, Magnolia and everyone who has shared my messages.

Dear all of you

I have become sufficiently brave enough to attempt a note to you, after my Mum.

I remember you, Dana, saying after your Mum arose to heaven that you felt slightly bewildered at whether you had any right communicating on this site. Well, I remember consoling you and reassuring you that of course you should come to the site, you have a shared experience, your words are infinitely valuable.

Here I am, feeling slightly the same, but reminding myself that of course I should visit my friends at Colon Club. It would be silly not to. You are my friends and have been so kind, it would be ridiculous to lose contact. I feel a closeness with you all.

I may not impart any new information on combatting this terrible disease but I hope you will be pleased when I check in, regardless.

I have reread your condolensces and your words and warm and comforting. I've printed them off, and i'm putting them in a special flowered box I have bought where we are keeping the many many condolensce cards we have received.

My darling Bren, was buried on Thursday 1st Feb. I do have great difficulty talking of my Mum in the past tense. And I find the word 'dead' so unacceptable. However, her service was perfect. She had a full requiem mass in the most beautiful pretty church called The Abbey. The Father there gave such a profoundly touching and holy mass that I felt privileged to be there. We had a soprano with the most angelic voice sing 'Ave Maria' and 'Panis Angelicus.' My cousin gave a eulegy so meaningful that he was very brave to deliver it, and his sister, my other cousin read a passage from the bible beautifully. I even managed to do my reading without faltering. When I had practiced I kept bursting into tears.

Some of you may know St. Exupery's 'Le Petit Prince.' or in English 'The Little Prince.' My book is yellowed with pages falling from it. But it has a message from my Mum at the front of the book. To her Darling Little Girl and to remember that one only ever sees clearly with the heart. Some of you may be familiar with the moral of the book. In French, 'on ne voit bien q'avec le coeur, l'essential est invisible pour les yeaux.' In English 'one can only see well with the heart. What is essential is invisible to the eyes.' My Mum loved the book and its' original illustrations. It is a gentle spiritual story. You must all read it and tell me what you think.

My Mum repeated the moral of this book to me a handful of times in our lives. It made so much sense. It is really a true moral with which to live your life by. Anyhow, little did I know that the reading I had chosen to do in the church made almost word to word references to this very moral. It clearly stated that what is important in life in invisible to the eye and that what is true may only be seen with the heart. I couldn't believe it. The message that had always meant so much to us and that we had shared between us and nobody else was right there, in my church reading. There was an angel smiling over us.

My darling friends, I cannot pretend to be heroic in all of this. My heart is breaking and I feel a despair at the depths of my soul that I cannot begin to tell you about. But then I remember how Mum said she wished me every happiness I would want in life, and how she smiled at me and held my hand. I cannot let her down by being anything other than strong and happy. But why oh why does it feel like such a huge effort?

I remember when my Mum's Mum died. Mum attacked life with a gusto and energy that was bewildering. If only I could have half of that strength. I hope with time, it will become less of an effort and more easy and honest for me to smile and enjoy.

Keep in touch, everyone. With love, Mali.

Janb, your poem is so beautiful and comforting I am printing it for Mum and giving it a special place in her flowered box. Everyone of you, your condolensces and like warm soft arms, thank you.

[Lifes2short]

Mali,
Be gentle with yourself during the grief process. It is different for everyone. You have suffered a terrible loss and you will need time to recover your energy. She will still be with you when you need her.

My mother lost her dear mother a few years ago to Alzheimer's disease. Whenever someone in the family was facing a struggle, my grandmother would quietly, calmly and confidently say "she's / he's going to be alright". Seems she was always right about that. Now as my mother watches me go through this miserable cancer process, she tells me that she frequently hears her mother telling her that I'll be OK. My mom is still being conforted by her mother. That is a wonderful thing.

[NICK THE BRIT]

Nice to hear from you Mali, hope your ok. Was your moms service at the Abbey (Erdington) ive called in there before for prayer. Im going to Little Aston on Saturday to have my temporary bag removed. Speak to you soon.
Nick xx

[Mali]

Thanks again Lifes2short. It's comforting to hear you. How heartening to read that your Mum is still comforted by her Mum. Just as my Mum's Mum was always in her heart, so I told my Mum recently that she would always be in mine.

Nick, yes, you're right. It was The Abbey in Erdington. A beautiful, beautiful church. Somewhere that I have visited periodically, alone, to cry and to pray, since my darling Mum was diagnosed.

Maybe our paths crossed Nick. You never know.

I shall think of you this Saturday and sending you lots of good vibes for your procedure. Will you be in for several days?

Nick and Lifes2short, thank you both and I am with you in spirit, every step of your battles.

Love for now, Mali

[Magnolia]

Yes, Mali, this is a time to be gentle with yourself. Healing will come. Don't rush it. It will take time, but it will come. Feeling better in time does not mean you have forgotten. It just means the good memories will start to overshadow the pain. It WILL get better.

[missjv]

hi mali,
well everyday that passes will start to go by easier. i remember when my father passed away 4 years ago i was so sad and i cried everyday for 2 weeks when i thought of him but now 4 years later when i think of my dad i can smile and not be sad i think of him as being in heaven with other members of my family who passed away i know that sounds funny but it helps me feel better. your mum is at peace now and she is no longer suffering from this horrible disease and she is hanging out with her friends and relatives who have already passed and smiling down on you.


missjv

[Dana]

Mali,

I was so happy to read your post. I have been checking Colon Club in the hope of hearing from you.

I can't say I know what you feel because pain and grief is so personal but as you know I've been there and all I can say is follow your heart....

It will take time, slowly the excruciating pain will diminish and then you will feel her love and her presence again. Your mother's love is always with you. Now I know this is true.

My first year without my mother is nearly over. It's being like a rollecoaster ride but somehow I've made it. I'm stronger now. You'll see that one day you will realise that good things can come out of this too.

As for the Petit Prince. Well I gave it to my daughter for Xmas and am waiting for her to pick it up and start reading it... I love it, and understand it much more now.

I hug you with all my heart and hug everyone at Colon Club too
Lots of love
Dana
xxxxxxxxxxxx

[janb]

Mali,
I do find that poem so comforting. It was read several years ago at my best friends church service. She was killed in a horrible car accident, I was devastated; it was the only thing that gave me inner peace. I can feel the poem and pass it on hoping it does the same. I sent it to Dana when her mother passed.
Sending you hugs.
Jan

[Pollyanna]

Dearest Mali:

How wonderful to see your post - I know it's hard to check in, when all you want to do is just cocoon yourself away. It's great that you feel comfortable to come back here and let us know how you are - I've been thinking about you a lot in recent days.

All I can tell you about the loss is that it will get easier over time, and everyone gets through it in their OWN time. There's no timetable here; what works for you is what works for you alone - there's no rushing through it. Maybe the hardest losses are the ones that were so close to us they felt like they were part of us.

I lost my mom 4 years ago, and not a day goes by still that I don't think about her or miss her terribly. As Spring approaches, I miss her because we always used to call each other to point out various gardens in our neighborhood that were blooming. On Sundays I miss her, because that was the day that she came over for dinner every week. I miss her hugs, and the smell of her hairspray. All physical things. But I know that she's around - I just look for the little signs everywhere. I guess what I'm trying to say (somewhat awkwardly...) is that you'll always think of her, but that the pain will abate. Promise.

Take gentle care, and keep in touch.

Big Hugs, Shelley

[Dana]

Jan,
Yes I remember your poem. And I remember when you sent it to me. It's in a frame with other poems I love. I never passed it on but I will now. The words are so beautiful

Shelley, I'm so sorry for your mum.... A year on it's like you say. I look for her signs everywhere. I miss everything, her perfume, her laughter, her smiles, her "hello darling"....
The despair is turning into a sweet melancholy.


Mali,
a huge hug and am always thinking about you.
Write soon, okay

Hugs to all
Dana

[Mali]

Good morning everyone

Just checking in to say hello and to respond briefly to your very kind and loving words.

There is such a mix of different emotions. They range from sheer despair to almost confidence. Yesterday I went to the new modern cemetry that Mum had chosen. She is there in the place of rest that my parents selected for themselves. A flat modern ground but with a broad outlook onto surrounding fields, open to the elements, with hills on the horizon. A multi faith cemetry where jews, muslims and christians and other people of other denominations lie side by side in rest. I was surprised when I first saw it for the first time. I had imagined a more traditional burial ground, hilly and intricate, surrounding an old traditional church. But that is where Mum chose and I of course, will love it as much as she did.

I spent half an hour there. But not only at Mum's place of rest (her hundreds of white roses still adorn her bed, and even though frost bitten, are still beautiful) but I took time to walk through the grounds. I went from crying to feeling comforted and having a certain strength. Having walked around the oldest graves were from 2003. It is a very new cemetry. There were stones with teddies on them, I was curious and then realised that they were babies, and children. I also noticed the stones of different faiths, looked deep into the photographs displayed on some stones, saw how loving families had nurtured small gardens and displayed toys, statues and cards around their loved ones beds. I turned to look towards Mum, and could make out the many white roses and I suddenly thought, 'You know Mum, here you are. These are new friends for you now.'

Then something else, with every stage of her illness, right from 11 years ago when she was diagnosed with the breast cancer and then with every further diagnosis and stage following that-every stage became a new norm, a new way to live our lives by, and to a degree, even when Mum became so weak and so wracked by her disease, it was as if she would go on (physically) forever. I had a thought yesterday, at her place of rest, that this was almost like just another stage, as were all the other stages. That she would be here forever more in one way, and that whenever I needed her or wanted to be there for her, then this is where I come. And there will we chat, cry and just stand, silent. But she is there, in a different way. But she is still my Mum, and I can still go to her. And years into the future, when she becomes the earth, the flowers, the trees, the air, the birds, she will be there even more, all around me in a different physical way.

And how right you are, missjv, just as your father is in heaven with his friends and family, so will my Mum be, with her brother and Mum and her friends and further family. There she is working and playing in heaven and as Fr David said, she has not left, she is preparing the house, for when we go to join her.

And yes, Dana - you know that your Mum's love is always with you. You are right, my Mum's love will always be with me. I know though what you mean, Dana and Shelley - missing specific shared experiences, their perfume, their love of gardens, the sound of their voices. I think one of the things I am and have been aware of missing right from the start is her phone calls. My mobile doesn't ring as much anymore, my landline hasn't had a call for a while. My Mum on the other end of the phone, where I would instantly feel apprehensive as she would regularly have something to say about where I was or what I was doing, or what she thought I should be doing rather than what I was doing there and then, but the great comfort to from hearing her warm velvety voice and the sweet almost apologetic tone that she occassionally had, particularly in the later months as she would need me more and more despite my being so busy with life.

A notable difference is that all of a sudden I have time on my hands. I am now getting my chores done and progressing with my work. I remember feeling so stressed when Mum was ill, in terms of putting my daily chores and work to one side as Mum was a higher priority. What I would give now, for my sweet tiny Mum to come in and to tell me to tidy my room, or make her a cup of tea, or scold me for not spending enough time sitting with her. My sweet darling Bren.

Oh dear, I'm getting upset again. It horrible how you can be feeling quite strong and then with almost no reason at all the insecurity, uncertainty, and grief can all come flooding in again.

For now, dear friends, thanks for your continued support. Dad is eager for me to finish writing a letter to the Marie Curie team who provided night care for Mum and to the hospice where she stayed for respite, so I shall get on with it. Sorry, if i've not mentioned everyone of you by name. Forgive me, it's just that so many of you share some very personal stories and yet I may not mention you all. Know that you are all dear to me and that with each kind word and every story shared, I go away and feel warm and comforted, and so close to my dear friends at Colon Club.

Bye for now
Mali

[Holly]

Mali, you are welcome my friend. Please remember ALL THINGS ARE TRULY POSSIBLE.

Holly

Mali wrote:

Holly

You continue to be so kind and bring so much comfort. You are right. We are all learning on our individual life journeys. I will reap much comfort and warmth from my dear friends at Colon Club and thank God, the day that I typed in Colon Cancer into Google and for choosing our clubs link.

I do hope that I will find the strength and earnest happiness that Mum had so much of for life. I need to do her justice, not only her, but have a duty to my Dad, my son and myself. I shall pursue my interests and take each day at a time.

Holly, I think about you on your journey as I do all our friends. I can only say that we are lucky to find such friendships on the net.

God bless you and I love your positive message, the message that you always write, that all things are truely possible. I think I shall make this my mantra.

God bless you Holly and thank you for your wonderful positive and inspirational words.

Much love, Mali.