'Hello, Gorgeous', you uttered two words.
Two words which were music to my ears.
It's been so many weeks since I heard your voice.
So many weeks since I saw you smile.
I can't remember the last time I heard you laugh.
Those two words were spoken to Eleanor Rose.
Eleanor Rose, who was born 9 weeks ago.
Eleanor Rose is our first daughter.
Eleanor Rose, your first grandchild.
Ellie smiled sweetly right at you today,
She's so unaware of the torment you are in.
Oblivious of the grief we have all endured.
Her love for her grandma seems entirely unconditional,
Regardless of the appearance of your outer shell.
You're probably never going to cuddle her properly.
You're probably not going to see her grow up.
You might not hear her utter her first words.
You're unlikely to see her get married, have kids.
But she loves you, her grandma, absolutely, unconditionally.
It's as if she knows who you are.
'Mum, do you want to hold Ellie?' I asked you.
'No' you whisper softly back.
Is it because your heart breaks when you try?
I hate that you can't gather the words to explain.
But I don't question you, I just accept.
I don't want to force you or add to your sorrow.
I just show you Ellie and 'hello gorgeous' comes back.
Everyday I wonder what you're thinking.
Do you know what's happening to you?
Are you screaming inside 'I'm still here!'
'Let me speak, dress, eat, I can do it myself.’
'I can hear you, you know, I'm sitting right here'.
In my heart I hope you don't know,
That you don't really understand.
Most people would see a distressed
Contorted, trapped woman inside.
But I know that you are my mum.
A grandma, a wife and a sister, an aunt and a friend.
I hope that you are in a nice place,
Far away from this bleakness you are in,
A place where you're happy, calm and relaxed.
You grasp things so tightly, a finger, a tissue,
Whatever is there, in front of you.
Why do you hold on so intently, I wonder
‘I'm sorry Mum' although I'm not sure what for.
Sorry I couldn't save you from this illness.
Sorry for all of the things I did when younger,
that I should have already said I was sorry for.
I love you Mum, I wish you knew,
I wish I had spoken those three words more.
You'll never know how much my heart breaks,
every time I say it and there's no response from you.
You can't stand any longer,
or really sit in chair,
you spend hours in bed,
being tended by others.
Sometimes I wish you would just let go.
Then I feel guilty for wishing you away.
But you don't need to suffer any longer.
We're all settled and able to cope.
Each day I see you, suffer, in pain,
A little bit more of my heart breaks away.
Eleanor Rose is two years old now,
You made it to her second birthday.
She had a party, you came in your wheelchair,
You couldn't eat any cake but I did see you smile,
A little bit more of my heart broke again.
It's been 6 years since your diagnosis
You were given twelve months after just 2.
You fought for everything you believed in
Made so many milestones that we didn’t think you would.
You saw me marry the love of my life
You saw the birth of your first grandchild.
You lived in the home that dad would retire in
and saw your son settle down, fall in love.
But now its time to say Goodbye Mum, we know you're at peace now.
Goodbye Mum, you passed last night.
Goodbye Mum, you left so gracefully.
Goodnight Mum, close your eyes, sleep tight.