Guest Post by Karen Morrison
I sit watching my beautiful girl. Her spark hidden away inside a body that just doesn’t work anymore. I feel a heaviness and hate for the cause, the cruelness that is a brain tumour.
I can’t imagine what she is feeling and thinking. Does she blame me? I couldn’t stand that, she’s only 6 years old, she wouldn’t understand this…
I have no control over her being, the tumour has control, trapping my little girl away from us.
The selfish side of me wants her to stay no matter what. “I love her, I can’t imagine living on without her!” my heart screams. My head murmurs “Go fly Megan, be free”
She was such a lively one, I can hear her now “Mum, I’m bored!” My heart cries for her. So I read to her, put on her favourite TV programmes, hold her hand, anything.
It weighs so heavy on my shoulders.
I know in my heart she can hear me, I open her eye and there it is, the spark! She follows me with that bright blue eye, it twinkles at me and loves me until I have to close it again.
Sometimes that twinkle turns to sadness, it hurts.
One day that twinkle wasn’t there, her spark was fading. Four days later Megan died…
I feel so guilty for saying this but the relief I felt was overwhelming. But the relief was not for me, it was for her, my Megan. She was free, no longer trapped or controlled by the cruelness of the tumour. In an ironic way she had beaten it.
Her twinkling spark was flying and my shoulders became that little bit lighter…
