My mum was diagnosed with terminal cancer 2 years ago when I had just turned 17, and at the time the doctors assessing her illness thought she might only have a month left to live as she was very ill. I really struggled to deal with this as I was still relatively young and I'm not particularly good at processing and showing my emotions; instead of dealing with the fact that this was a part of my life now and it was actually happening, I pushed the whole cancer thing out of my mind but didn't realise that by doing this I was simultaneouly and unintentionally pushing my mum away too. 

Anyway, she lived longer than the doctors initially thought she would and received chemo and radiotherapy and for a while was doing really well considering she still had a terminal illness. Last year around this time she started having problems with her breathing again (this is what got her hospitalised before and how she found out she had cancer). Her doctors told her she'd need surgery and might be in hospital over Christmas, which made me sad but at least she'd be here. But after she'd had the op, her breathing was no better and the doctor found the cancer had spread to her lungs and liver, meaning she couldn't and would never be able to breathe independently of a ventilator again and we couldn't wake her up to say goodbye or I love you one last time. 

She passed away on the 22nd of December and I felt numb. I have struggled to grieve because I don't know what to feel and I seem to just be stuck feeling guilty for not giving her enough of my time when she was alive in her last year and a bit. I feel I should have told her I love her more, and as it's coming to the anniversary of her death and also Christmas, which is traditionally a time for family, I find myself thinking of her more. I don't think I have really faced up to the fact that she's never coming back as I pushed the whole thing away when it happened and just refused to speak about it but as it nears the time of the year again I find myself wanting to speak about it more.