My mum died from advanced brest cancer almost 4 years ago. We were very close and talked on the phone almost every day. I had moved away from home (Leeds) to London some 20 years or so earlier.
We were always close, but our relationship had developed into something akin to sisters, I suppose. But when she was first diagnosed she became very maternal, and spent much of her time trying to reassure me and make me feel OK about things, rather than confiding in me or telling me what was really going on.
As we lived so far away, when she was having her chemotherapy it was very difficult for us to visit her, as the risk of introducing 'alien' germs was too high.
So fast forward 5 years, after she thought she was ok (she had been given her all clear) she was very suddenly diagnosed with advanced breast cancer - which had spread to her bones and her liver.
I was, immediately, her daughter again - not someone she confided in. And I now realise just how alone she must have been and felt. She really didn't confide in anyone, as she really did realise how serious her condition was and how poor her prognosis was. Her only concern - silly woman! - was to think about the rest of us.
Paradoxically, because I was the only one of the family not living close by, I did realise (although I hadn't been told) just how serious things must be. Very sadly my father didn't - and still doesn't - quite get it.
She had an operation to remove a tumour from her spinal cord which, in itself, could have killed her. She recovered incredibly quickly, without even having to be in intensive care. Sadly, after her first bout of chemotherapy and Herceptin she contracted an infection and died within 3 days.
So although we knew that her disease was terminal, we were all expecting that she would have at least a year of so.
Long story short - traumatic for all of us, obviously, but the really awful thing about all of this was that she had spent so much of her time 'being strong' that my father really thought that her operation had cured her. (Goodness only knows what he thought the chemotherapy was for). So he was totally distraught when she died as - as far as he was concerned - the cancer had been cured.
Goodness me, I'm not really sure where this is going - other than I wish I could really have talked with my mum about what was going on. I thought we had a really close relationship, but ultimately this was totally overtaken by her feeling that she had to protect the rest of us from her suffering.
I miss her so much.