Conversations with my daughter.......

Hi there. Sarah again. As Dave has already mentioned I had an extraordinary conversation with Emma over tea at Bettys the other night. Although if Emma reads this she will probably be really emma like and say "what do you mean extraordinary mum? it was just a conversation". Because Emma doesn't know anything different she has no idea of how extraordinary our level of communication is as a family compared to other families. Dave and I know how amazing it is because we have plenty of prior years experience of communication in our own families and how in the Olden Days important things were definitely not talked about and often brushed under the carpet!

In my communication with Emma over Dave's illness I am often torn. My commitment is to be open and honest with her and include her as much as possible in what is going on. However my maternal instincts also have a pull which is to try to avoid her suffering any upset or hurt in her life. I wanted her life to be perfect without any nasty traumatic stuff (clearly impossible in the long term but I had hoped that she might at least have made in to her twenties without anything terrible happening). And, in truth, this is probably my worst case scenario. My reason for saying that is that as Dave has already mentioned my dad died when I was 4. My brother was nearly 16 when he died and I know from conversations with my brother and my mum what a terrible impact my father's death had on both of them.

Anyway any attempts to wrap Emma in cotton wool for any length of time are clearly impossible in this situation and to lie to her would have far worse consequences, so I tend to take her questions as they come and answer them as honestly as possible without frightening her too much. I think it is fair to say though that my heart is often very much in my mouth when we are talking about Dave. We talked a lot on Thursday about her dad was doing at the moment and the symptoms of his illness that were currently causing the most problems and impacting on his everyday life. She said that "he looks so well most of the time" that it is hard to realise how ill he actually is. I explained that he is very ill and that he does try to avoid her seeing the worst bits of his illness as he loves her so much and doesn't want her to be upset. I also explained that cancer is a cruel illness in that people can look really well and then suddenly have one thing like an infection or another serious symptom that can cause them to deteriorate rapidly. I said to Emma that whilst we hope that this will not happen for a very long time, we need to be aware that it could suddenly happen and that if it did we would need to be a real team and look after each other (with help from family and friends).

She was extraordinarily brave in the conversation and asked lots of questions. She wanted to know where her dad would be when he got really ill i.e. at home or in hospital. I explained that the doctors had already asked us about this and that we hoped that her dad would be able to stay at home for as long as possible and that I would nurse him, but that I would need help from some nurses and doctors that would come to the house and might even stay overnight sometimes so that I could try to get some rest. I also explained that because we were not sure what would happen with regard to the illness, Dave might spend some of his final days in the hospice and I explained the difference between the hospice and a hospital.

We also discussed the randomness of life (quite deep to discuss with a 14 year old) and how unfortunately very sad things sometimes happen and often to the most wonderful of people. I gave her a couple of examples (which I cannot list here for confidentiality reasons) of fantastic kids in my school who have already suffered some very severe hardships - in a couple of the cases multiple hardships. Life definitely does not come with any guarantees which is why I think we just need to live it to the full whilst we can. And these kids I mentioned who have really been through the mill are already amazing young people (soon to be great adults) who I would much rather have than the more spoilt middle class cotton wool kids who have no idea what privileges they have in their life and constantly complain about the current "dramas" in their life.

One of Emma's final questions (as I think Dave has already mentioned) was "What is it like to lose a parent?". She wanted to know how it was for me when her much loved and adored granny died. I said that I had been very sad at the time and for some time afterwards, but that my mum's death had been easier to bear because her granny had been 79 and so it was in the natural order of things that she should die before me. I said that Dave's potential demise is not in the natural order of things because he is so young and so it would potentially be a lot harder to take. At the end of the conversation a few tears rolled down my face which were directly related to her sheer bravery and courage in the way that she talked to me and she duly passed me her serviette (as usual we had no tissues when they were needed) and she sniffed back a few pre-tears and watery eyes. And then as always happens in these situations we returned to the mundane. Paid the bill and duly went to M and S to buy some much needed milk for a cuppa when we got home.

I was very glad to have had the conversation with Emma as one of the things that has been worrying me is that Dave could suddenly deteriorate and how scary this could be for all of us. One of the things that disturbs me about cancer is that people can look really really well just before they die. A few years ago I knew a very brave lady through my work who had breast cancer. The last time I saw her was at a mutual friend's 40th birthday on a Saturday night. On the night you would not have known that she was ill other than the fact that she went to bed slightly before the rest of us and on the following Thursday she died leaving a lovely husband and gorgeous young daughter. And who knows what we will be facing in the coming months. New symptoms are developing all the time - today Dave woke at 5 a.m. with a high temperature, bad pains in his chest and a shortness of breath. It did all go away after a period of time but this is obviously a new thing for us to worry about. The Cancer Rollercoaster always keeps moving and never stops so you can get off and rest for a while.

So a remarkable night with Emma and a conversation I am very glad to have had - I am sure there will be many more like that between us Frenchies. I was pleased that she seemed lighter on Friday which I attribute to having the opportunity to discuss some of her fears and worries wih regard to the future.

The conversation with Emma left me thinking about my mum on Friday and just how much I miss her! When my mum died I clearly remember the sensation of being "orphaned" and suddenly very much on my own in life with no member of the older generation to fall back on. My family is very small and because she was the last of her generation to die, I now only have my brother and a small handful of cousins on my side of the family. My mum and I had a very intense relationship as after my brother left home when I was 6 we were on our own for most of the time barring when Steve came home for college holidays - although even this stopped when I was about 10 and he moved in with his girlfriend and later wife Linda. My mum and I often resembled a married couple in my teenage years, making decisions about the house like choosing wallpaper and decorating together and later on going on holiday together. The relationship was very intense at times as my mum was quite a strong character (as those of you who met her will recognise!) and as am I, so we did have our ups and downs, but she loved me absolutely. Had she had the opportunity to be around now, she would have been up here looking after us all, cooking and washing and doing any other chores we needed. Still, in another sense I am glad she is not around as it would have broken her heart to see this happening to Dave as she loved him so much. She told me once not long after we had married not to come running home to her if things went wrong as if they did she knew it would be my fault (as Dave was so fantastic!). Whenever Dave arrived at her house to see her she always got a little spring in her step and enjoyed his gentle teasing and mocking of her country bumpkin accent.

And thinking of my mum also led me to thinking of other people not around now that I really miss like Dave's Dad Chas who would have been a huge support had he still been around and who would have done his best to soften some of the worst parts of this situation and bombarded us with love and my favourite auntie, Joan who was a surrogate grandma to me throughout my life who sadly died just a month before Emma was born and who would have given me a cuddle when I needed it. I can only hope that all these characters are somehow watching over us somewhere along with the other relatives and friends we have lost over the years.