by Tara Walsh Buckley
Well Mum,
When I closed my little green notebook and looked out at all our friends and family, I meant what I said “until the day we meet again”.
Sixteen years. I still miss your apple pie, your crazy laugh and your sparkling blue eyes.
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I wonder were we would be if life had taken another turn and given us more time together. I know I’ve felt that sixteen years wasn’t enough yet for the sixteen after I felt guided, loved and inspired to make you proud. Sixteen years.
Moments I knew you were near, a hand on my back. Not praise but confidence. Not you can do it but why wouldn’t you do it. You are still with me Mum. When I spoke of our family tree broken 4 years ago on my wedding day and about the puzzle pieces missing I looked around at many of the same tear-stained, but this time happy faces and demanded that everyone dance the night away - like you would have. And we did. For you on your birthday never mind my wedding day. We celebrated. Sixteen years.
I’ve never felt the loss more when I was pregnant with Shae. The grief hit me like a wave. I wanted my mum. I felt lost and happy balancing hope and heartache. But I knew I could do it, because why wouldn’t I? Sixteen years.
And then she came into this world. And she slept just like you. She held her hand to her face like you. And I didn’t want to say it out loud but then Tanya said it and then one late night, Dad did too. And we knew. You were there. We all did skin to skin and held her close as Shae rested on our chests, hearts beating together. We were all together again, we couldn’t believe it. Sixteen years.
And then. Well then It didn’t matter how many years had passed. The unknown of the biopsy became the known. I stared up at that ultrasound screen and thought of you. Sixteen years since you died. I was sixteen and now, well now I’m sixteen years younger than you were then but its back. This cancer has brought us back together again. Sixteen years.
So, Mum I feel connected again. The pain of the disease is fresh, and the wounds are open. I think of your bald head, your strength, all the hope we held together. And then I feel it, your backache – when it returned. And we all knew. And it wasn’t fair. But you, you carried on, you carried us with you. Because why wouldn’t you? Sixteen years.
Why are we here? On this dance floor again – together, stepping around cancer once more. But Mum, I can’t. I can’t hold your hand and spin you just yet. Because I need the sixteen. I need to give it to Shae. I need to be here for her to find her own confidence not seeking praise. To know she can do anything because why wouldn’t she? I know I will see you again Mum, but I need the treatment to work this time. Give me the confidence to believe there will be a future for me to hold with Shae. Let me live and love. Let me breathe. Oh sweet sixteen.
Tara is originally from Dublin, Ireland, made Vancouver her home in 2010, married her love in 2015 and welcomed her beautiful girl Shae in 2016. In August 2018 her world was shattered when she heard the words, “breast cancer”. Lost and looking for answers she found Callanish through her wonderful oncologist and she will always be grateful for the supportive community she is now a part of as she navigates life after cancer.