Pattie Morgan 27 July 1940 – 8 April 2015
A beautiful, brave, smart, playful and loving woman. We’ll miss you.
This is the eighth post in a series about my mother’s journey with terminal cancer.
Cancer
Peacefully sleeping
Mum on Good Friday
It’s hard to imagine that this woman, always so full of life, will not be here much longer. In such a short period of time Mum has gone from someone who is running around, with barely a spare moment left in her diary, to someone who now just sleeps.
Cheated
It’s the odd little things that catch me: some middle-aged woman helping her old mum cross the road, a man sitting drinking coffee with his elderly mother, an elderly gentleman talking quietly with a teenage grandson. Things I will never get to experience. Mum will never be an old woman. Dad was never an old man.
Don’t panic
Mum
I have really struggled with understanding what I need to write about this week. It seems much harder, which is probably a great reflection of the rollercoaster week it’s been. It’s not as though there has been anything too dramatic regarding Mum’s health – I think that we’ve all accepted (including Mum) that it is declining whether we like it or not.
