This weekend, 12 months ago, I discovered my Mum had breast cancer.
Tonight, I seem to be falling apart. Always surprises me. I ought to know better, grief has no rules, huh? All it takes is one little thing, can be totally unrelated, and the head is yanked from the sand and off it goes.
All these memories are swirling around my head and I can't seem to stop crying.
I remember her saying "I've got breast cancer" and my world felt as though it had shifted right off it's axis. My head literally spun and I felt like I was dreaming, life didn't feel real. I remember gulping to stop myself sobbing. I remember the look on my Dad's face. The fear. The sad. The fact that he could hardly speak. His voice cracked.
I remember 2 weeks later, her telling me how scared she was. Her tears. For the first time to me, she looked old and tired. And so vulnerable.
Getting drunk and high with my sister to escape.
Reading about the precautions post chemo, the extent that was needed to keep her and anyone else safe from the poison. Scared.
Her screaming when she set the kitchen on fire. The realisation at that moment that things were very wrong. She was not Mum as I knew her.
Her head in a turban. Bald.
Watching the chemo mix - bright red - travel up the line into her arm and wanting to rip it out, yet being so fucking grateful it was there.
Crying so much, needing mild sedation.
Feeling grateful that her odds were so good.
The relief at the end of her treatment cycle.
So much fear.
Thank god it is over. Thank god she was so lucky and caught it early. My heart aches for those who are not as lucky.
My heart hurts tonight. I need vodka.