Like mother, like daughter, still.
Sunday, April 06, 2014
This is not the post I ever imagined would follow Wednesday's announcement, but life seems to have little regard for my plans. So does death, for that matter.
On Thursday evening, my wonderful mum, Rosie, died. I am heartbroken.
My mum was so proud of me for writing this blog and loved to read whatever nonsense I'd written. She was the first real-life person, besides Fin, to read it and left so many funny and supportive comments over the years.
Mum was bright, witty and had a fantastic way with words. When I left home, she used to send me constant little letters and notes, which I loved to read (and, thankfully, have kept). She was my inspiration in countless ways, but especially in writing.
Not long after I started this blog, Mother's Day rolled around and I asked if she would like to write something in honour of the occasion. In a strange quirk of fate, or timing, or something else, that post was published exactly three years before she died.
I'm struggling to find words to express everything I'm feeling at this moment, so I'm going to hand over to her. She always knew the right thing to say.
Greetings to those of you who enjoy reading Kirsty's thoughts on weddings, shoes, her lovely Hubster and things in life which take her fancy. Today you are getting, instead, a few words from the person who has known her longer than anyone in the world, who first saw that wee face appearing from the arms of the midwife and who has shared in all the ups and downs of her 27 years. For Mother's Day, dear readers, you are getting the Mother.
I was chuffed when she asked me to write something as it helped to shore up my bizarre belief that I am still young and hip! I mean, blogging. Most of my pals won't even know what blogging is. My wrinkles, body and birth certificate all tell me that I am 60, but this information has failed to get through to my brain. I am not sure what mental age I have, but certainly not very grown up.
You often read about children who live in awe of their parents. Since Kirsty started writing this blog, I feel a certain role reversal. I am so impressed by her writing and crazy thoughts. I have laughed out loud and cried – slow tears dropping onto my laptop and somehow not making it grind to a halt.
Yet while being so impressed by her ability, I have also been touched by how big a part I have played in her life. That may sound stupid – I am her mother, I helped bring her up, of course I am a major player – but we don't really go around all the time saying these things. Kirsty may have written about my lack of religious faith, but I was still brought up a good Scottish Presbyterian girl and we don't gush about our emotions.
There have been a couple of posts which have brought home how much she appreciated something I may have done as a mother. Firstly, the recipe book! I didn't realise at the time how much she had liked that. It just seemed such an obvious thing to do when your kids leave home and I assumed everyone else had done that. Kirsty leaving home was such a heart wrenching time, I was happy to do anything which would take my mind off it all. I wasn't mad when it went missing – what would be the point in that?
I had a Granny who, as they say in my home town of Glasgow, would “go mental” if you broke/lost anything and it was something I didn't want to carry into my family life.
Secondly, I loved her writing on my Mum's wedding book. That my Dad died when I was pregnant with Kirsty and never met her or Ali, her brother, is one of the saddest things in my life. But they did get to know my Mum, albeit for only a few years, and she was one hell of a Nana in that time. That their wedding book played a part in Kirsty's thoughts of her own wedding brought me great joy. That she could use it to write with such humour and so touchingly was the icing on the cake (sorry, bad pun).
However, as you can probably imagine, the post which had the biggest impact on me was A Little Cloud. If my father dying before seeing my children was one of the saddest things for me, then having this wretched disease has definitely overtaken that in the “why did this happen to me?” stakes.
As I have learned over the past 11 years, people with cancer approach it in many different ways. Often they don't want to talk about it all, pretend it isn't happening, and they can make it difficult for others to know how to deal with it. I was definitely in the other camp of believing that a problem shared is a problem halved, and would blab about everything. Maybe I bored friends and family rigid, I don't know, but quite frankly I don't care. [Editor's note: you didn't.]
Those of us with cancer are called many things – the most common one is “brave”. I am not sure if bravery really comes into it; you have no choice in the matter and just have to get on with it. What I think I have been most is “greedy” - greedy for time. When I was first diagnosed, Kirsty was 16 and Ali, 14. She was about to sit her Highers and determined to get the best results possible (and she did!) and I felt so bad breaking this news to her a few weeks before it all.
But most of all I just felt that I was being cheated of time with them. If only I could see them leave school, study or get a job, that would be a bonus. Then as time went by and I seemed to recover from it all, I was greedy for other things. If only I could see them married, be happy, get a job they really liked. These things I have seen and many more great things have been shared with my kids.
But now that my future is less certain, with the spreading of my cancer (I always call it “my” cancer, I am very proprietorial about it) those greedy thoughts have come back to me. If only I could see them settle in their own homes and maybe one day have their own families living in them. But who knows? It is all in the lap of the gods and the drugs which I take. However, to get back to her blog, reading Kirsty's thoughts on it all was so lovely – maybe this time it is harder to share every thought with each other, it is almost too difficult.
I would like to finish this on a lighter note!! As you may have gathered, Kirsty has always had a love affair with shoes [Who, me?]. I have her first pair of wee navy Clarks sandals somewhere which I must give to her to add to her collection. It is bad to generalise, but I am pretty sure most of your fathers were unsure of this “shoe thing” their daughters may have had. In our house, when Kirsty came home with some new shoes, Eric would say, “How much did these cost then?”. “Oh,” would be her reply, “only £30.”. Then, turning to me, in a conspiring whisper would say behind her hand, “Each!”.
That's my girl.
Mum's post was first published on 3 April 2011
81 boats moored
Oh Kirsty. I don't have the words. Your lovely, lovely, brilliant mum. I am so so sorry.
ReplyDeletePxx
I'm so sorry she's gone, Kirsty. She was so witty and funny and approached her illness with such grace. It was a pleasure to re-read this post and remember her. Lots of love xxx
ReplyDeleteOh Kirsty. This is really beautiful. Your mom sounds like a wonderful woman. Lots of love to you.
ReplyDeleteKirsty there are no words that will take away the pain. What an amazing lady she was. I'm so so sorry.
ReplyDeleteKirsty, i am so very sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteDear dear Kirsty, Finn, bump & family xxx
ReplyDeleteI am so so sorry for your loss. Thinking of you and your family at this difficult time.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful post. I am so sorry. Take care x
ReplyDeleteLike mother, like daughter, indeed. Wonderful women both, and if it's not too cheesy to say, it really is so clear to see from this post that that the best of her is living on in you. All my love to you, my dear. Really, really, all of it.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry Kirsty, you are in my thoughts. This is a beautiful posts, very fitting x
ReplyDeleteYour lovely mum is so much like you, she will live on in you and your baby, your hearts, your words, probably your wardrobe (!) and in all of our memories, whether we met her or not because we knew her through here and through you.
ReplyDeleteLove to you and all your family.
x
ReplyDeleteKirsty (and all Kirsty's family), I'm so so sorry for you loss. Thinking of you xxxxx
ReplyDeleteI loved this post when your mum wrote it, and I loved reading her comments on your blog - she seemed like such a sweet, funny person.
ReplyDeleteI am so, so sorry. I wish I could say something to ease the heartache. Sending you & your family all my love. xxxx
Oh, Kristy. So much love to your entire family.
ReplyDeleteWhat beautiful pictures and what lovely stories. Thank you for sharing this bit of your mom with us. I'm so, so sorry for your loss. Sending love to you and your family.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry Kirsty. Thank you for sharing you mum's wonderful post again. The photos are beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThinking of you, much love.
I'm so so sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteDear Kirsty, my heart goes out to you and your family. Your mom´s words are beautiful I can see where you get it from. Love
ReplyDeleteOh Kirsty I'm so sorry. Sending all my love to you and your family. Xox
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry for your loss and will be thinking of you and yours. x
ReplyDeleteOh Kirsty, I'm so very sorry. Wish I had better words to say now, but I'm thinking of you xxx
ReplyDeleteKirsty, I can't imagine how you're feeling. Thanks for sharing her words with us. What a delightful woman. I'm so so sorry. All my love.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry, Kirsty. My thoughts are with you and your family.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for sharing her with us while you're in this hard place. It's clear she was a lovely lady, and passed that on to you. xo
ReplyDeleteReading this through tears. I'm so very sorry. I can see your resemblance to her in her lovely photos and words. Big hugs.
ReplyDeleteOh Kirsty, I am heartbroken for you. Tears streaming down as I read your mum's precious words. She was an incredible lady and clearly was both a mum and a friend to you. I'm truly truly so sorry for your loss. Huge hugs and love xxx
ReplyDeleteI've been thinking of you and your mum for these past few days and thinking about the amazing relationship that you have. I am heartbroken for you.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry Kirsty. Without having ever met her I can tell that your mum was an amazing person, the sort who makes the world a brighter just by existing. Sending love to you and your family.
ReplyDeleteOh love love... Tears falling here for this tremendous loss in your life. No doubt you are the beautiful human being you are because of your mother (not to mention your witty and fabulous writing seems very similar to hers as well)! Life works in strange ways that I will never understand. Let yourself heal and celebrate her and grieve... and feel all the emotions that come along with it always. Sending you and your family love and hugs and healing. Xoxoxo
ReplyDeleteThere are no words but so much love to you and your family. x x x x x
ReplyDeleteOh Kirsty I am so sorry. Your Mum sounds wonderful, she had that gift of being able to come alive with words, so reading her it feels like she was talking straight to you. How lucky she was to have you, and you to have her. My thoughts are with you and your family.
ReplyDeleteKL xxx
Thinking of you all - so lovely to read your mum's words. What an amazing woman xxx
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry Kirsty. This is such a beautiful post. Love to you and your family x
ReplyDeleteBeautiful words then, and very touching now. I am so very sorry for the loss of her in the world. My thoughts are with you and your family. xo Jo
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry to hear about your mum. She sounded like she was a wonderful woman who gave so much even when she struggling with her illness. I couldn't stop thinking about what you said before Christmas about wanting just one more with your mum. It made me glad that you had that. It's unbearable to watch someone you love suffer, but not having them there is differently tough. I'll be thinking of you.
ReplyDeleteThere isn't really anything I can say and everything I think of seems inadequate, so I'm going to stop. I'm sure she was incredibly proud of you. Hold your family tight and know that there are lots of people who wish they could make things better.
I am so sorry to hear about your loss. This post was really beautiful, thank you for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteSo very, very sad. I wish I knew what else to say, other than to echo everyone else - sending lots of love and thoughts to you and your family xx
ReplyDeleteSuch desperately sad news Kirsty. Thinking of your family and sending my love xx
ReplyDeleteKirsty, my heart is broken for you. Sending all of my love and hugs to you and all of your family, and desperately wishing there was a way to make things better. Wendy. xxxx
ReplyDeleteKirsty I am so so sorry to read this. Sending you much love and strength at this incredibly difficult time xxx amie
ReplyDeleteOh Kirsty I'm so sorry.
ReplyDeleteI have been reading your blog from the beginning, when I had no idea our lives would have so many similarities. I can't write as beautifully as you, I can't ease your pain or change your circumstance. But I have two things to say...do not underestimate the good will, friendship and love coming to you and your family now and whenever you need it from this funny little world you have created here.
And trust me, the knowledge your Mum knew you were starting a family will be a great comfort, you will see your Mum in so many things you say and do as you become a Mother. She will continue to influence you more than you can ever appreciate right now.
My Mum lost her fight with cancer last year, never truly knowing my baby. A baby who I thought would remind me of how much I have lost by not having my Mum here, but has actually shown me how to keep on loving and smiling and celebrating life...my baby is called Rosie too xx
Oh, Amy, thank you for this comment. I didn't know what I needed to hear today, but this was it xxxx
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DeleteKirsty- I am so sorry for your loss. I do love that you posted her words. They're strong, witty, loving, and her adoration for you shows through so strongly. Wishing you all the love and comfort right now.
ReplyDeleteSarah
Oh Kirsty, I am so so sorry. How perfectly she sums up the love and admiration you clearly had for each other. All my thoughts and love to you. xxx
ReplyDeleteI remember reading this the first time it was posted. I confess sometimes the internet makes me well up a little & I call it crying, but this has made me have a good and proper cry the whole way through. I'm so very sorry Kirsty. xxx
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry to hear of your mums passing. All the love in the world to you and your family at this time x
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry x
ReplyDeleteIm so so sorry to hear your news. Thinking of you all at this sad time and sending lots of love. Look after yourself. xxx
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry Kirsty. I often think how strange it is that the world keeps turning and people continue their lives when yours has shifted so dramatically. Everyone should stop and take notice that the world is different and you have done this with your post. You made us pause and mourn that a great lady is missing. Be gentle with yourself and gather loved ones close. We're here for you as you need us.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry Kirsty and am thinking of you all. I never met your mum but the way you wrote and spoke about her must have made her so proud.
ReplyDeleteTake care, we're always here x
I'm so sorry Kirsty and am thinking of you all. I never met your mum but the way you wrote and spoke about her must have made her so proud.
ReplyDeleteTake care, we're always here x
I'm so so sorry Kirsty. Just reading her own words was enough to know what a lovely lady she was. I'd have liked to have known her. Much love xxx
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry Kirsty. My thoughts are with you and your family. Your mum's words are lovely, and it must be a comfort for you to have this wonderful expression of love from her to keep and treasure.
ReplyDeleteTake care - wishing you every strength.
Sending you love and support from Staffordshire. I lost my dad to cancer aged 13. Your mum looks and sounds like a joy to be around. You'll never lose that joy, it's in you. xxx
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry to hear this news Kirsty. Thinking of you at a very difficult time. Your mum's writing was beautiful, thank you for resharing this post.
ReplyDeleteI am most desperately sorry Kirsty. It was lovely to read your Mum's words again - and she looked so terrifically like you. Thinking of you and your family.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry, and I just wanted to thank you for sharing your journey and your Mum with us for these past three years. I'm very pleased to feel like I knew her, and very sorry that she is gone. I'm sure this seems trite, but whenever I lose somebody I love, I re-read My Year of Magical Thinking, which says some really interesting things about the nature of grief and human behavior and just...makes me feel less alone.
ReplyDeleteI hope you and your family are holding up alright and please know that we are all thinking of you.
Totally with you on My Year of Magical Thinking. It made me feel less alone too. X
DeleteI never had a chance to comment on your happy baby news & now I am so incredibly sorry to learn of your sad news. May your beautiful memories bring you peace & comfort today & always~
ReplyDeleteOh Kirsty. This is so lovely. I think sometimes about what I would want Frances to know about me, if I were to die, and the number one thing is that I want so much for her to know that she was LOVED. Your mom's writing is funny and smart and wonderful and so clearly full of LOVE for you. I'm so sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteKirsty, sending you and your whole family lots of love at this very sad, hard time. I never read this post by your mum the first time round, but enjoyed the banter you guys had on your blog via her comments, it's clear your wonderful writing style came in part from your beautiful mum. Although it's unlikely to be much comfort at the moment, you have a record through your blog of so many stories and memories to treasure forever. Hugs xxx
ReplyDeleteSo, so sorry to hear this Kirsty. What a beautiful post, part of which I remember reading when you originally posted it. I love the part about role reversal and how loved and adored you clearly were by each other. Thinking of you and your family. xx
ReplyDelete...oh Kirsty! I am so truly sorry to hear this sad news. I have no words to utter than those of condolence. Everything else seems trite and empty. Sending you much love, support and kindness to you... xo, B
ReplyDeleteps... Seeing photos of her here, you look so much like your mom, and rereading her post to you it is clear she had the wickedest sense of humour, something you also have inherited. I think in time losing someone is very much like them 'going to a far off country'. They never truly leave you, for you will carry memories of them always... xo
DeleteLongtime lurker but couldn't not comment on this. I sympathise so much Kirsty, I lost my mum to cancer 2yrs ago. It's horrendously hard but the positive memories do stay despite the pain. Thinking of you xx
ReplyDeleteAnother long-time lurker. I'm so so sorry. Your beautiful words for a beautiful woman are so lovely. Thinking of you.
ReplyDeleteKirsty, a beautiful tribute to your beautiful mum. I can confirm - " slow tears dropping onto my laptop and somehow not making it grind to a halt". Sure you could do with that glass of wine but do not fear I will have it for you while I remember my lovely friend, your Mum xxx
ReplyDeleteSuch heartbreak. I'm undone by your loss, and sending you and your family all the spare love I can summon.
ReplyDeleteKirsty I'm so, so sorry for your loss. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. Xx
ReplyDeleteThere are no words and yet it's your mum's words that have brought her to life for strangers like me who did not know her.
ReplyDeleteHer smile is simply beautiful and so contagious in all of the above pictures! I am so sorry for your loss Kirsty and family. xxx
ReplyDeleteI'm so very sorry to hear about your lovely mum. Such a beautiful post. Thinking of you, xxx
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry for your loss Kirsty. Your mom was truly a wonderful woman, and my heart is with you now.
ReplyDeleteOh Kirsty. I am so terribly sorry.
ReplyDeleteThis post is beautiful.
Oh Kirsty I am so happy and so very sad for you. What a time to check into my blog feed after a lapse of about a year and read about the awful sweeping lurches life has thrown your way. My heart aches for you. Your mum was clearly a beautiful shining light of a lady with an inner voice worth listening to, both of which she has passed on to you. I have been exactly where you are on the pregnant and bereaved front, and it is some crazy shit to deal with. I wish for you: a blissfully easy pregnancy, birth and baby, lots of laughter from good memories and thoughts, to feel your mum is somehow still with you in the darkest days and to be surrounded by good and gentle people who let you grieve in your own way - and who hold you up when you feel it's all too much. Will be thinking of you.
ReplyDeleteOh, Kirsty i haven't been on Twitter at all so just seeing your devastating news. I know there is nothing I can say to make you feel better but I am so very saddened by your loss. What an incredible woman you had for a mother. Lots and lots of love to you all xxxxx
ReplyDeleteI'm just now reading this and I am still so sorry for your loss. I know that you, and eventually your baby, will carry the very best of her with you. And judging from this post, that is a LOT.
ReplyDeleteI just read this and I'm just so sorry. so so sorry. I'm in the motherless gang too. sucks. lots of love.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful writer she was. I feel like she was speaking to me. I am new to your blog and this has really touched me. Actually, I am in tears. I send my best wishes to you and your family. It all makes me wonder why I choose to live across the ocean from my dear mother. Take care of yourself. -CCJ
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