Reality Revisited: As Told By Katie

First posted in February 2019, this is Katie’s first ever post. We have grown so much more than we ever thought we would, and we want to share our earlier posts. We aim to reflect on the early struggles of our grief, and what we went through without our mum. We are proud of where we have come from, and of where we are going. We hope you are as well.

If you are struggling with your grief, that is okay. You are not alone.


*Trigger Warning- Topics containing cancer and treatments* 

My sister and I have about 25 ideas each that we’d like to write about for this blog. Evee is a natural writer – she puts pen to paper and her words are able to convey exactly the emotion she wants for anyone to understand. For me, on the other hand, it takes a little longer. I feel so passionate about what I have to say but I can’t decide what post to start with or how to start it. A few weeks later, I have about five documents on my laptop all started and all unfinished. So, after a little thought, I have decided to put less pressure on myself and just start with a post to ease myself in with. When I feel stronger and more capable, I will finish the more emotional posts at a later date! 

Although our mum was ill on and off for seven years, it was 2018 that really took all of our strength. To me, 2018 felt like being at sea in the middle of a heavy storm, on a tiny wooden boat with no paddles.  

After missing perhaps, one and a half months to support my mum through her treatments, I finally went back to university in March. It was about this time that the weather was getting a little brighter after having such a cold and brutal winter. As the winter was ending, I felt like my mum was getting better too. She had finished her radiotherapy, she didn’t need a feeding tube anymore and I thought that we were in the clear. We did it again. 

I felt thankful and started listening to music again (specifically Here Comes the Sun – The Beatles) and I slowly found myself smiling more and more. My mum was healing and so was I. 

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case and while she had been so poorly in hospital, the cancer took its chance to spread, to the one place Mum always “thanked God” it hadn’t reached – her liver. I just had enough time to finish my exams and coursework at university to come home and the very next day, find out the terminal news with her at the appointment. It had infected more than 50% and the oncologist didn’t want to show us the scan. I was angry. And I haven’t listened to The Beatles since. 

The next couple of months were for our family. Nothing else mattered but spending time with our mum. Always trying to forget the thought that summer would soon be over, and Mum wasn’t likely to see Autumn – my favourite season.

The cancer storming inside our mum carried on relentlessly and come Autumn our little boat of three destroyed, leaving the two of us washed up on unfamiliar lands. I read a quote once: “My mum taught me everything except how to live without her”. 

October was bleak and painful. I remember telling people how numb I felt, but really, I couldn’t describe the pain. The winter was long and offered too many similarities to the last one, but this time without my mum. And here we are again, full circle, coming up to March. I’ve resumed my Master’s and the weather is brighter and more promising than ever. 


Copyright © 2021 The Grief Reality. All Rights Reserved.

42 thoughts on “Reality Revisited: As Told By Katie

  1. When I started my blog, I also had about seven stories on my computer that were incomplete, but I have managed to start posting one. You will post them too, with time, the urge never goes away.

    I am glad you are getting back on your feet. Sorry for what happened. Keep moving, one day everything will be okay.

    1. Hi Berina, I’m glad I’m not the only one. I’ve never really opened up like this to write anything so personal but people have been really supportive and it means a lot. Thank you so much!

      1. You are welcome and don’t give up, by writing we touch other people’s lives. I share my experiences through my stories too, and honestly, I feel that some weight has been lifted off my heart. I will be visiting your blog often. Keep writing and God be with you.

  2. You will find writing certainly helpful and those posts that are not ready yet, one day, you may feel they will be.

    And the quote you mention, which I have not seen before until here, that is so true.

  3. I’m glad you’re writing your feelings as it can be a type of therapy… Your mum would be so proud of you because you have found the courage to continue ahead… So keep going… ❤

  4. You ‘re amazing girls. I know it’s incredibly tough but there is light at the end of the tunnel. Love you lots. Peter

  5. May God bless all .
    After the darkness of the winter night , the sun would be shining bright…
    Best wishes …
    We are all the change for the better we seek and find in the world …

    1. Hi! Thank you so much for reblogging and commenting. My favourite thing to come from this blog is all of the comments that we receive – the support is overwhelming. It means so much that our blog truly talks to people <3

      1. It really does. I’ve never been so touched by a blog before (proper ugly tears while reading your posts); it’s really beautiful writing and content. And I really must commend you girls for being so brave and phenomenal after all this while. Please continue the good work, I look forward to reading more about your insights 🙂

      2. You don’t know how good it feels to read that. When we began our blog, we were felt so lost and had no idea so many people would want to listen. This blog has helped us in so many ways and we are happy that it’s being received so well. Thank you, thank you, thank you

      3. No…thank YOU! And I sincerely hope and pray from the bottom of my heart that both of you find more reasons to smile and be happy each day from now on. You’ve earned an ardent fan 🙂

  6. Writing will help you through hard times. I wrote when I was grieving the loss of my mother. Writing down your sorrows, your memories, and feelings helps to take weight off your shoulders and place it on paper. Really well done. I will read on. Beautiful.

  7. Such a vulnerable time. I’m not sure life ever returns to what it was before but being able to see the changes in our process is so important. Thank you for sharing this. My care to you both♥️.

    1. I understand. Life will never be the same as it was when my mum was still here physically. But today I am just so thankful to be alive and enjoying my life again. Thank you for commenting your support,
      Katie x

  8. Writing could be the best of therapies and when you’re writing you’re talking about it. Fortunately you’re walk on again! Enjoy

    1. Exactly! It’s quite painful to look back and see how much hurt there was in my life back then, but I am so so thankful to have never given up. And I am so proud to have been able to help people in this community who have similar experiences and to have your constant support. Thank you x

      1. Yup… well a woman wise according to Bonnie Raitt, joking apart it could be a nice therapy and all words is yet to come. A big kiss from Madrid Spain and live it up!

  9. Interesting that there was that connection with music. “Here Comes the Sun” is such a refreshing song, and connects with those moments in our lives when we have hope again. But when that hope gets shattered, it almost rubs salt in our wounds.
    Writing does help. Simon and Garfunkel had a song where the lyrics spoke of words trickling down from a wound. It’s true of us writers – we get stabbed, we bleed words.

    1. I understand exactly what you mean, there seemed to be such a cruelty to life back then. This blog has helped more than words can ever truly say. Thank you for commenting and supporting us,
      Katie x

  10. It’s such an inexact science that things can change quickly. The shock can be hurtful because you’ve seen a light on the horizon only to find it’s a forest fire of hurt. There’s little anyone can really say at that time because most people spend their time supporting the victim and trying to come to terms with it. It sounds as though you did all the right things then and since that time have made huge adjustments to life without her without for one minute forgetting her.
    Huge Hugs

    1. Hi David, thank you for commenting. You’re right, the shock of all of the sudden changes and the betrayal I felt was unbelievable. I am so thankful to be able to say that I am no longer in this painful place, and I am so immensely proud of never giving up. Thanks for your constant support in our journey! Katie x

  11. Good morning,
    I just returned home from my Father’s furneral yesterday. I cannot tell you how perfectly timely this blog is for me. To have a community of those who understand is of great value to me at this time and I appreciate all you share!
    Thank you!!!

    1. Hi Julia, I am really sorry to hear that your father has recently passed away. We are sending you so much love and strength. The grief community is really special full to us and it’s full of incredibly strong and caring people. Please know that you are never alone in your grief


Leave a Reply