My wonderful friend Muthoni died on Saturday morning, I wanted to hurl away the phone that carried the message, even now I keep hoping the information is wrong.
How can she not be here anymore?
She was only diagnosed with breast cancer in February, she has been so brave in just getting on with accepting it and tackling it and what needs to be done, the masectomy and the 8 rounds of chemotherapy that she has struggled through and only just finished 4 weeks ago.
Life was supposed to start again for her now, her and her beautiful Son who is only 6 yrs old.
Muthoni radiated everything good that I admire in people: energy; laughter; kindness; logic; compassion; spirit; life was always good when she was around, she helped find the meaning in everything.
It seems so wrong that she is gone so young, so prematurely, and that the last 7 months of her life have been filled with all this miserable chemo and horrible side effects, one can’t but help wonder what if she hadn’t had the chemo, and had enjoyed the last 7 months living life as fully as she always did, even if she had left us still this early… I guess these are ‘normal’ (how can there be anything normal about losing such a wonderful person so young) thoughts, and part of the anger, pain and inability to understand such loss.
I hope some of you will have experience of ways you have helped young children (already old enough to ask a million questions) begin to come to terms with losing their mother, and other children with being able to help their friend who has lost his/her mother (such as mine who are asking - why did she get cancer in her breast? where did it come from? why did she die? where is she now? how can she us but we can’t see her?)). I know there are no easy answers, but if any of you have experience of somethings/words/stories that helped other young children, please share them.
It really feels like a light has been stolen, I know her wonderful aura is still here with all of us lucky enough to have known her and to have loved her and everything she was/is and will always be. That her son who shares her amazing spirit and creativity is going to have to grow without her arms there around him, hurts so much.
To those hurting inside from this unbearable and unbelieavable loss of our spirited friend Muthoni and to any reading who are so bravely battling this disease and its consequences - my love and strength to you.
May we grow to understand so much more deeply the treatment, complications, and reasons behind this disease so that we stop losing so many many beautiful, vital and important women.
Muthoni, I will turn this pain around for you and for all that you are and for your son, but my god how much I miss you.
Tanya XXXXXXXOOOOXXXXXXXX