Screw You

To those that know me they are aware it is not in my nature, I run daily and am watchful to follow the ever conflicting advice about good diet and balance in what we eat the more than the odd aberration on alcohol aside. But grief does sly things with you, it likes to play tricks with you and tests your resilience, strength, fortitude and consistency. Sometimes I have an overwhelming desire to slouch on the sofa, 'wack' some crap on the telly, order the largest Domino's Pizza, pour myself an obscenely large glass of Sue's favourite Chateauneuf-Du-Pape, sink a tub of Haagen Dazs, stick a double two fingers in the air and say screw you, SCREW YOU! Ha, ha.... It makes me laugh......! 

But who am I screwing if you'll excuse the filthy pun? God! No, I've been there before in these blogs, not bothered by him now! The health service, no! The humorous insensitivity of people avoiding anything to do with death, dying, graves, illness or any other 'unmentionables' around me, no none of these. I'm saying 'screw you' to cancer, this despicable, disgusting disease that robs people of dignity, of loved ones and our attempts to live life hoping to avoid terrible tragedy and trauma. By saying 'screw you' often and loud enough we will defeat this illness one day, it will become a disease of the past. Lily competed in a 'Race for Life' and raised over £100 to help defeat this illness. Louise continues to live her life bravely, never forgetting her mum, but living her life, laughing and loving still, by this she is helping to defeat this disease. 

Two things recently that are also an amazing, living illustration of this. I shared a camping field in Oxford with 9 other dads and their children, all strangers to one another before the weekend but brought together by one defining thing, one terrible, tragic and lasting consequence, the untimely and early deaths of our beautiful wives and girlfriends. I came away from that weekend inspired, incredibly moved and humbled by brilliant, inspirational dads doing amazing things with their wonderful children. Playing with them, disciplining them, showing them the boundaries but loving them, caring and cuddling them or offering advice and as a result the children and young adults that were there were free to express themselves, to be themselves and live their lives just like any other child or young adult does despite their appallingly horrific circumstances, for make no bones about it, despite the fun and laughter, something appalling has happened to us all and continues to happen to us but we get on and thrive, despite this. In this way cancer will not defeat us. So for the Mike's and Mark's, Reece's, Richard's and others, to the beautiful children, the Sophie's, Olivia's and Holly's and others and to those beautiful, absent wives, girlfriends and mothers' to these wonderful children, this was our way to fight back, to remember, to get on and say 'screw you cancer'.

My sisters organised and hosted their garden fete to benefit Sue's charity, A.M.M.F. In brilliant sunshine we bought cakes, eat burgers, played human fruit machine, hooked a duck and sack raced our way to raising £500. I was humbled by incredibly personal but brave stories of defeating cancer and people, strangers listening to Sue's story. I like sharing this! It helps to communicate about what has happened. It's even better to tell people how amazing she was. If I could only tell the whole world how amazing she was, how brilliant Lily and Louise are at getting on, my wonderful sisters and those amazing dads and children, I would. 

Screw you cancer, screw you!