How resilience helped me when my darkest fear became my reality
This summer my world changed forever. I went from a happy and confident person who truly believed life was all about what you make it and that very few things were out of my control, to suddenly knowing that the end is not always something you can change and you just have to face it. My mum had always been one of the must central and dependable people in my life. Someone who I could always guarantee would have an opinion on everything, yet would support me no matter what. Someone whose opinions weren’t always wanted but were sometimes needed and who had the immense gift of being able to take away life’s worries with the best hug ever! She meant the world to me.
Two years ago, my mum went through chemotherapy and to her and everyone around her, she was now well and looking forward to enjoying life once again. But fast forward to April this year, I received the phone call that would change everything. I returned to the UK to nurse my mum for the first 3 weeks at home. I watched her braving the pain yet seeing her waste away in front of my very eyes before she had to be taken into hospital. The disease we all thought she had beaten was now going to take her away from me and there was nothing I could do. My life was turned upside down and the idea of me being able to save her was blown to pieces.
The fabric of my close-knit family began to loosen and fray. My Dad simply could not cope and as someone who had enjoyed having his best friend and wife steadfastly by his side since he was 11 years old, I couldn’t even begin to imagine how he must have felt. He just couldn’t watch her fade away. As a daughter so usually full of conviction and strength, it was now down to me.
How do you draw strength when one of your biggest fears is staring you in the face?
My resilience felt like it was the only thing left that I could take control over and it felt like a saviour
Despite everything, things weren’t spiralling out of my control, I had a job to do and I was going to do it to the best of my ability. It was possible for me to make a difference with what little time I had left with my mum. I took control of every single minute I had with her, from decisions around medication through to getting her rolled over at night to ease her discomfort and the more I took control the better I felt. I was doing this for me but more to the point, for her. Signs went up on her door for no one to enter unless it was necessary and visitors were turned away at her request. Many small things that would make a huge difference and I implemented them.
I stayed with her for 2 long weeks that now don’t feel enough. I slept beside her and loved and cared for her for every minute I had left with her. In those 2 weeks, I mainly had only myself to talk to as my mum slipped in and out of consciousness. I will always be thankful of the love and support I had from friends and family but they weren’t there in the middle of the night or when I left the room to sob or when my mum opened her eyes for the very last time and told me she loved me. It was me and my resilience skills that allowed me to understand my thoughts and emotions and give me a clear vision of what needed to be done.
It was these resilience skills that gave me the confidence and clear head to take control
This sad memory and experience will sit with me for the rest of my life but one of the big things I learnt was don’t ever tell yourself you can’t find some element of control in your life no matter how bad things get. You are just looking at it from the wrong angle. Being able to draw on my many resilience skills saved me in so many ways. It gave me the gift of time with my mum. The piece of mind and reassurance that the little time I had left with my mum had meaning and it mattered. I made a difference and was able to see that, no matter how bad things got. The main reason I’m sharing this with you…. Our ability to be resilient is never more important than when we are faced with adversity. But it’s important to know that my experience of losing my mum is an extreme one.


