Jul 2018
Dear Mum,
I found the letter you left for me the other day in a small box you had bought me the last Christmas we spent together. And on that small box says “keep on drumming sam” along with a biblical quote re-written to be about music (which I know was obviously a joke due to our constant bickering towards my hatred towards the construct of religion). Anyway back to the point. I come across this letter from time to time, the last time was the night before my 21st. The night when after reading the letter I went and picked up a big bottle of our favourite drink and preceded to drink it all whilst raising each glass in your name.
Everyone says their mum is the greatest but you really were. You provided me with an amazing childhood with some amazing experience. Yes I know that sounds weird coming from me due to always being morbid.but seriously you did give me an incredible childhood. You sorted me out with amazing education, great holidays and you instantly knew when I was sad sometimes even before I realised I was, like when you knew deep down I was feeling lonely and one day you turned up to pick me up from school and surprised me with the greatest gift ever and the bestest friend I ever had, max.
And Yes we had some bad times throughout my childhood like the arguments I had with Martyn and him storming out and not to return for three months or the violent tantrums I used to have. But we always got through it all. Even when on that day in may 2012, when you sat me and Martyn down along with the rest of the family to tell us that after a second biopsy, the spinal chord tumour that was originally diagnosed as benign was in fact cancerous. From that day on, things got harder as you well know. From going from a nurse who used to see running laps round the ward to provide the greatest care to ending up losing all feeling and movement in your legs meant that you couldn’t do the job I knew you loved so very much. And I know it was so hard for you and I know i probably weren’t any help from time to time arguing and getting funny about you refusing to look up alternative methods of treatment whilst you just wanted to leave it to the doctors and live out your days to the max and yes I said some awful things, which I have now come to regret very much. But you were a fighter for them 4 years and well as I would always say when you were feeling down “ you are Barbara thompson’s daughter” as you battled through every ounce of the disease with so much strength like grandma did.
The day before you passed I tried speaking to you on the phone and you couldn’t focus. So you messaged me apologising and when I asked if you were going to be fine and should I go back to my uni digs after work you replied “I’ll live” not knowing that hours later Martyn would find out you had gone in your sleep. But them words were true, even if cliche to say you still do live, yes not physically but you’ll live on in memory and in my heart.
I love you mum and although these last 2 and a half years have been some of the toughest years of my life I feel like I have come through it all stronger because of how you raised me all I want was and still is to make you proud. I’m going to finish uni, live out my dreams and hopefully find some form of happiness.
From your little boy,
Sam
I found the letter you left for me the other day in a small box you had bought me the last Christmas we spent together. And on that small box says “keep on drumming sam” along with a biblical quote re-written to be about music (which I know was obviously a joke due to our constant bickering towards my hatred towards the construct of religion). Anyway back to the point. I come across this letter from time to time, the last time was the night before my 21st. The night when after reading the letter I went and picked up a big bottle of our favourite drink and preceded to drink it all whilst raising each glass in your name.
Everyone says their mum is the greatest but you really were. You provided me with an amazing childhood with some amazing experience. Yes I know that sounds weird coming from me due to always being morbid.but seriously you did give me an incredible childhood. You sorted me out with amazing education, great holidays and you instantly knew when I was sad sometimes even before I realised I was, like when you knew deep down I was feeling lonely and one day you turned up to pick me up from school and surprised me with the greatest gift ever and the bestest friend I ever had, max.
And Yes we had some bad times throughout my childhood like the arguments I had with Martyn and him storming out and not to return for three months or the violent tantrums I used to have. But we always got through it all. Even when on that day in may 2012, when you sat me and Martyn down along with the rest of the family to tell us that after a second biopsy, the spinal chord tumour that was originally diagnosed as benign was in fact cancerous. From that day on, things got harder as you well know. From going from a nurse who used to see running laps round the ward to provide the greatest care to ending up losing all feeling and movement in your legs meant that you couldn’t do the job I knew you loved so very much. And I know it was so hard for you and I know i probably weren’t any help from time to time arguing and getting funny about you refusing to look up alternative methods of treatment whilst you just wanted to leave it to the doctors and live out your days to the max and yes I said some awful things, which I have now come to regret very much. But you were a fighter for them 4 years and well as I would always say when you were feeling down “ you are Barbara thompson’s daughter” as you battled through every ounce of the disease with so much strength like grandma did.
The day before you passed I tried speaking to you on the phone and you couldn’t focus. So you messaged me apologising and when I asked if you were going to be fine and should I go back to my uni digs after work you replied “I’ll live” not knowing that hours later Martyn would find out you had gone in your sleep. But them words were true, even if cliche to say you still do live, yes not physically but you’ll live on in memory and in my heart.
I love you mum and although these last 2 and a half years have been some of the toughest years of my life I feel like I have come through it all stronger because of how you raised me all I want was and still is to make you proud. I’m going to finish uni, live out my dreams and hopefully find some form of happiness.
From your little boy,
Sam
