When trying to come up with something clever, witty or pop-cultural reference for today I was drawing a complete blank... My brain is clearly in need of a defrag, loading a boy into my system has got my virtual memory running too low. My apologies. Things seem to be going well on that front for those of you that are playing along at home. I haven't been able to see him for a week so I'm really really really looking forward to seeing him tonight.
The thing that's been crossing my mind lately is the death of Natasha Richardson, actress and wife of Liam Neeson, at the age of 45. And it's not for the reason you might think. Ever since Mama Scribbles got cancer, everyone goes "Oh that's so hard! How do you cope? Morbiddy morbiddy blah blah". The answer is you just do cope - when you're there, it's not like you have a choice to do otherwise. Driving to the hospital one day (oh probably about the second time mum got admitted because of that darn infection), I saw an accident on the other side of the motorway that was most likely fatal. All that could cross my mind was that my mum was in hospital, with cancer and an infection, but at least she was safe. These people hopped in their car, heading to a destination and had no reason whatsoever to believe that they wouldn't arrive.
When my grandma passed of cancer, we only had a short time to say goodbye (six weeks from diagnosis to her passing) but we made each moment count. Mum and I have big long talks some days because I know and she knows that there's a possibility of her not being round five years from now. Natasha Richardson's family? They had no time... no time to say how much you are loved, no time to say how much you changed a life, no time to share your words of wisdom, advice and dreams.
So on that deep and dark note, my Scribblettes, seek out those people who mean the most to you and tell them now, not later, what they need to know. They may not have cancer, they may in perfect health... but one day, it may be too late.