
To mum,
You have been my support, my shoulder to cry on, my rational voice, my saviour on far too many occasions.
You are the strongest person I know. Dealing with a lot. You’ve lost four children. Mandy, to cot death. The twins were premature and didn’t make it. Peter committed suicide.

You survived all that and was still a caring and kind woman.
Me. I’ve been the biggest trial for you. Dealing with all the times I tried killing myself, oh the memories of Peter you must endure, yet you stayed by my side and helped me come out the other side a bit more broken but okay.

Now your time is shortening and you’ll soon be gone, how will I survive. Without my saviour?
I hate breast cancer. I hate brain tumours. You deserve none of this. You want too live. If I could give you my healthy body that won’t seem to die, I would.

I’d take your death sentence for you, happily if it meant you would get to stay in this world and bless more people with your kindness.
Dying is easy for me, living isn’t. So I’m pushing you away, to try and shield myself from the pain. How unbelievably selfish. I’ve stopped talking to you because it is too painful.
I don’t want you to know how badly I’m failing at the moment. How I gave up my job as a sushi chef. How I barely leave the house and is constantly thinking about suicide.
I’m running out of time to talk, chat and visit. I’m trying so hard to make myself call you. I just pray that I’m not too late.

I love you mum. So, so very much. You are my hero, my saviour. I truely wish I could of been a better daughter for you.
Much love,
Alana




