Laura’s story

My memories from Mum’s wake are bittersweet. Watching her dance and laugh, delighted to be surrounded by people from throughout her life, was so special. From family to friends from the rock choir she sings in, and her ten-pin bowling club, it was amazing to see how much love there was for her in that room. But the night was also tinged with a sadness because she is going to be so missed.

I was still living in London when Mum was given her incurable diagnosis. Pacing up and down the street outside my office, I nervously waited for her to call after her appointment with her consultant. Nothing can prepare you for hearing your mother say the word ‘incurable’. I could tell Mum was trying very hard to keep her emotions in check, but her voice was breaking. Hanging up, I felt helpless. My world had been turned upside down but there was nothing I could do to fix it.

One thing I could do was move home. It was something I’d been thinking about for months, but when it was clear that Mum wasn’t going to survive, that clarified my thinking. I had to be with her, now more than ever.

I moved in August 2018 once I’d found a new job and place to live. It was hard saying goodbye to the life I’d created in London, but it was also the easiest decision I’ve ever made.

I completely understood Mum’s choice to stop treatment. She has put herself through so much – it’s time for her to live the life she has left.

When she first told me she wanted to host her own wake, I wasn’t surprised. Mum has always loved a good party; it was typical of her not to want to miss her own sendoff. It was very hard to think the time had come when she wanted to say her goodbyes. But seeing how positive she was while planning it, I knew this was a good thing for her to do.

I stood by Mum’s side as she made her speech at her wake, and that was an emotional moment in an otherwise fun, celebratory night. She looked so beautiful and spoke with strength.

I couldn’t help but cry, but they were tears of pride, to be the daughter of someone strong enough to stand up and say goodbye on her own terms.

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