Thursday, May 14, 2009
Cancer, Lord Voldemort, say them out loud.
There is method in my madness, possibly. JK Rowling hit a chord when she said that not saying something adds to the mystery and fear that could be produced by that mystique.
Walking the long walk up to my mum in her new green house I made my mind up. Be me, say it as it is.
"It's cancer." Possibly, with hind sight, hello would have a better start to the conversation. "It's not fair, it's not bloody fair." It came through sobs that only a mother can produce given news like that.
It was a real shame that the builder working on their house came round the corner at that moment, he froze, barrow in hand. Just not that sure about what to do, carry on with the task or retreat to the comfort of his transit. Dad made the decision easier as he'd just appeared and gave him the rest of the afternoon off.
Tea, tissues and talk, that was the order of the afternoon. Going through all the details that were so raw and fresh in our minds was a kind of therapy in itself. We'd talked in the car on the way over but saying it out loud in a factual way was helpful as I had missed bits so Wendy could correct me or vice versa.
We covered a lot of information in a short period of time. Or that's how it felt, whether we were repeating bits or what i'm not sure. It felt good talking about it, kind of like writing this blog, getting it all out there.