Saving the World from the Sofa.

An extra post today. Those of you who’ve followed me for a while know about my daughter Ellie: about her husband Phil who died from cancer, four years ago tomorrow, and about her twin boys, then aged 10. About her own cancer diagnosis and treatment more or less immediately after. I re-blogged several of her posts, and you followed her story through her own treatment, surgery and recovery. Now she has something to say about living in this strange new world where coronavirus and the fear of it dominates our lives. Please read it.

Fanny the Champion of the World

When my husband was dying, one of the things that bothered him the most was that people stopped bothering him. We were always the last to find out about our friends’ separations, pain in the arse teenagers, or warring families. And when we did find out, we’d always get the same response:

“But our problems are nothing compared to yours.”

To which my husband would reply:

“And my problems don’t suddenly make yours go away.”

He was right. Yes, perspective is a wonderful thing, but it usually grows from trauma. I’m a better person now than I’ve ever been before, simply because I value all the things I used to take for granted. Like being alive. Or having a cuddle with the man I love. Or owning a full set of tits. So, it felt completely wrong to find myself struggling with the impending fourth anniversary of my husband’s…

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26 thoughts on “Saving the World from the Sofa.”

  1. She writes so well, of experiences that many of us couldn’t deal with. Thanks for sharing, Margaret. Will you talk tomorrow? I was thinking maybe flowers, but that hardly seems appropriate. Just cuddles from the ‘new’ man 🙂 🙂 And his kids!

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  2. As always with Fanny’s posts I ended up crying. I do hope she’s right and we don’t revert to our former lifestyles. While out walking this afternoon we encountered a friend and learned that his wife had been rushed to hospital with a heart problem and he can’t go and visit. Being denied the comfort of touch is, I think, one of the cruellest aspects of this pandemic.

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  3. A lovely, heartwarming post Margaret. You will be very proud of her I’m sure, and will miss her dearly, especially tomorrow. Love and hugs to you, an extra wide one to encompass the two of you. xx

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  4. It’s always humbling to hear from Fanny; she remains an inspiration and continues to learn and grow from those difficult years. And to share with us selflessly. I shall be thinking of her and the boys, and you, today. x

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  5. I had not read the stories about your daughter and family Margaret. What difficult times she and you as well must have been through. It makes the current enforced separations especially hard. Very best wishes to you all xx

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  6. Thank you for sharing this wise and caring post from Ellie. During the ongoing Covid-19 crisis it sometimes feels like we are juggling simultaneously multiple perspectives. At significant times when enforced separation is much harder, that love and support can only be communicated at long distance can magnify current losses too on this long and difficult road that we are all trying to learn how to negotiate. Also sending you virtual hugs Margaret, and heartfelt good wishes.

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    1. There are such sad stories doing the rounds of people unable to say their farewells to those they care about most in the world. I guess it’s only when we can’t do simple things like talk together, hug and so on that we realise how very important it is to be able to. Zoom simply won’t do. Virtual hugs and good wishes to you too, Carol. You’re a real blogging friend!

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      1. Thanks for the good wishes and virtual hugs, Margaret.
        Today is the second anniversary of my mother’s death from cancer, and we have been reflecting on how hard it would have been for her (as it is for so many now) if she had had to cope with all this, living alone as she did and two-hours drive away from us.

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      2. Indeed. There have been so many stories of lonely deaths and funerals. It’s hard to think of yourselves as lucky two years ago, but you at least got to say ‘goodbye’.

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