Another year since you were taken and it hasn’t gotten any easier. I still miss you so very much and the regrets I have surrounding the time of your passing are still as painful as ever. I’m so sorry I didn’t do better for you, before you were taken! I have a lot of wonderful things in my life and I try to do as you taught me and focus on those wonderful things instead of the negative, but it’s hard, especially on a day like today. I hope you are in heaven (or some form of afterlife) and that you are doing okay. If you are able to look down on us, I’m sure it upsets you to see our sadness and struggles, but take some measure of comfort in knowing that your memory is loved and cherished by us all and that one day we will (hopefully) all be reunited. If you do live on, I can only assume it is without the horribly unfair pain inflicted upon you, and if I were certain in life beyond (which I truly wish I was), that would bring me great comfort, but for now at least I shall have to make do with hoping. I hope you live on in some way. I hope you are without pain. I hope you have been given the rewards you so very much deserve. I hope I didn’t let you down too much. I hope I can improve and be a better person and make you proud. I hope I can speak to you and see you again. I hope. Love you lots and miss you lots. Xxxxxx

Dexter is now in Year 3 a just completed his first week in his new class. It’s gone very well for the most part, save for one morning when he lost his way in the corridor on his way to his new classroom and ran back out to me very upset bless him - he found how au to class not long after though and had a good day. He looks so smart in his uniform. He misses you so much and still talks about all the time. He has a crystal necklace of yours hanging up in his room and he says you give it energy to scare bad dreams and monsters away. Josh continues with his homeschool and his Hedge club that you used to take him to; he goes by himself now and has made some really great friends there - the club has been wonderful socially for him. He misses you greatly also and will often recall fond memories of times shared with you. Your caravan has been a godsend for Ehlana and has given her (and everyone really) much needed personal space. I’m sure she appreciates what you’ve done for her, as we all do. Sarah is fighting on, just like you did, putting a smile on despite all the pain hardships that she faces. She often speaks of you and Nan, along with her Mum and Dad, and she tells me that you’re all up there, together, looking down on us. I’m… trying. I miss you so very much! Sarah says she has felt you coming to visit and k very much want that to be true to feel it for myself, but unfortunately I don’t. I want believe, but to quote a famous movie “faith is a gift I am yet to receive” and so for now, I continue on with a mixture of hope and despair; but if you are there, just know that I love you very much! I’m sorry to say, we are losing contact with Ron, Trudie etc. and largely due to how introverted and insular I’ve become. They are wonderful people and I know they too miss you and think of you - sorry I haven’t been better at keeping in contact. Just thought I’d give you a little update, prompted by the new school year. We all love you and miss you very much. You will never be forgotten and will always be in our hearts!

I miss you so very much! There are so many things I want to say to you, and above all else, I want to say how thankful I am to you; thankful for everything you did for me and our family. You truly were a selfless person and I could not have ever wished for a better mum or a better nanny to my kids. We have a home because of you, a home we adore and will never leave. Your love and support meant the world and I hope you knew how appreciated you were. I also want to say I’m sorry! I’m not as good a person as you, I’m not as strong as you, and I have many regrets; things that will bother me until the end. I’m so sorry I let you go into a nursing home - the one thing you asked of me and I failed you, I let it happen and at the time I couldn’t see the solution, I was blind to it, we were already overcrowded, but it’s no excuse, you would have found a way if it had been the other way around. I should have shifted people about, making use of the caravan, moved the rabbits and converted the living room into a bedroom for you and I am so very sorry that I didn’t do exactly that! I’m sorry I didn’t visit you every day. I was struggling seeing you so frail and pained, and I wasn’t doing a good job of balancing everything else going on with the family at the same time, but again, no excuse, and I should have been there for you far more often. That last visit you had home was so bittersweet and I’m glad I was able to facilitate that happening, but again I need to say sorry, as I should have stayed with you after returning to the care home, but I had it in my head I needed to get back for the school run, but I could and should have got someone else to do the run and I should have stayed. My last time seeing you, speaking to you, telling you that I loved you, it happened in a care home lobby and I regret that, but I didn’t know it would be the last time. I rang you that same evening but got no answer. Sarah rang the next day and got no answer. She even rang the home and they told us you were very tired and best to leave you be, and I wish I hadn’t have listened - I should have visited on the Saturday and again I’m sorry. More than anything though, I’m sorry you died alone in a place you hated. I let you down in many ways, but that eats at me like nothing else - not only did I let you end up there in the first place, I wasn’t there at the end to hold your hand as you passed. I got the call from the care home and they said it wouldn’t be long and I moved as quick as I could, but because of yet another failure of mine (not having my licence), I had to call upon someone else to get me to you and I lost precious time and arrived too late. Nan passed with her whole family around her, and you passed all alone and it wasn’t right or fair. I worry that in your final waking moments, you looked around and wondered where I was, and felt sad, scared and alone. I should have been there, holding your hand, kissing your head, telling you that I loved you one last time, telling you thank you… but I wasn’t there and I’m sorry, more than you could ever know! Nothing about your passing was right or fair. You were young, so much younger than Nan when she passed. And you beat it, you beat the cancer and you fought so hard for that victory and we dared to have hope beyond even the 5 years they estimated. But then it came back even worse and not content with merely taking you this time, it took your legs, your independence, your dignity, your home and your hope, and I didn’t do enough during that time and again, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I’m not a better person or a stronger person. Guilt and anxiety run rife within me. My whole world perspective has shifted and I want to live like you taught me, to ‘change what you can change, and get on with what you can’t’ but it’s hard, and I know I have wonderful things in my life, like my wife, my kids, the house, but sometimes all I can think on is the negative stuff, sometimes my many anxieties get the better of me, but I’m trying. Sarah has so many medical issues of her own and I’m scared I’m going to lose her like I lost you. And I need to do a better job taking care of her, which is absolutely what needs to be done, and I strive to do it, but at the same time, it adds to the guilt, because I didn’t do enough for you. I want you to be proud of me and forgive my mistakes, but that’s just me being selfish and again I’m sorry. I love you so very much and the best parts of me came from you. The boys love you and miss you so very much also, and Dexter in particular brings you up all the time. Sometimes in a happy way, retelling fond memories of you, like sleepovers, pudding for dinner, trips in the car etc. Other times he asks why you can’t come down and visit from heaven, and if the angels have fixed your legs? The boys were robbed the most when you passed, as they lost the greatest nanny they could ever have. All you wanted for your well-earned retirement, after a lifetime of working hard and helping others, was to enjoy time with your family and above all, your grandkids, and life screwed you over and cruelly took you away. None of us will ever forget you, and I know you worried Dexter might struggle to remember because of his age, but he will never forget, of that I am sure. I want to believe in heaven (or at least some form of happy afterlife) but I can’t say that I do. I don’t disbelieve, I just can’t make myself move beyond hoping into believing. I want to know your spirit lives on, that you live on as you were, not just some echo, or a memory, but you, actually you, pain free and able to look down upon us and see how loved you were and still very much are! It’s almost your birthday and I wish you were still here to celebrate it with your family, but you aren’t, and so I will talk and hope that you can hear me. I love you mum, you were incredible, an inspiration, and I hope you are at peace, in a place befitting a lady of your stature - Dexter has told me many times that you are an angel now, and I hope that is either true, or you are at least among the angels. Love you. Miss you. X