By Rachael Chadwick
The heartfelt and uplifting tale of the way a venture to scatter 60 Postcards in reminiscence of her mom helped a tender woman come to phrases along with her loss.
On eleven February 2012 Rachael Chadwick misplaced her mom to melanoma, simply 16 days after first being clinically determined, and her international shattered correct in entrance of her. totally bored stiff of the milestones and reminders, in December of that 12 months she determined she may do anything diverse and created a undertaking dependent round her Mum's impending sixtieth Birthday. wanting to unfold the observe in regards to the marvelous individual she had misplaced, Rachael had the brainwave of leaving notes round a urban in her reminiscence. determining she might take it a step extra she questioned what might occur if she may possibly ask humans to reply to her? jam-packed with desire and effort she hand-wrote sixty postcards, every one together with her e mail handle on the backside asking the finder to get in contact. yet one query remained, the place may still she go?
figuring out how a lot she longed to go to Paris,...
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Extra info for 60 Postcards. Some people scatter ashes. She scattered words.
I was so relieved to hear that she was in good hands. She was given a drip to rehydrate her and to get her back on track. In she went for her scans and the results that came back were extremely odd but showed a sign of hope. The family seemed to be in high spirits. I was at work when I received the news that the doctors had come to the conclusion that whatever it was on Mum’s liver had grown so much in just one week that it didn’t seem possible it was cancer – it couldn’t have developed that quickly.
I’m OK – I think I may have a tummy bug,’ she told us. How I wish that was all it had been. My day of birthday fun came to an end as Mum and Hannah needed to get back to Dorset, ready for work the next day, and I had plans to meet friends for drinks in Angel. Time had flown far too quickly. I felt sad when they left me that day. I was always sad to say goodbye, whether it was my family leaving me or me leaving them. I consider myself a real ‘home girl’. I was lucky; Dorset (Merley, Wimborne, to be precise) was close enough for me to pop back for frequent weekend visits and I did so once a month – it was just over two hours on a train.
I can’t smile anymore. I had been in denial over Christmas. Looking back at Mum in the moment that I said goodbye, I realised she looked seriously ill. 3 SIXTEEN DAYS New Year was celebrated (reluctantly) and the year of 2012 had begun for most people – but not for us. By the third week of January I was trying to continue London life, being sure to call Mum as much as possible but we were still waiting – for an agonisingly long time – to find out what was wrong with her. This is getting ridiculous.