When going through my daily emails and word presses today, I read with interest the Word Press’ daily post of Daily Prompts.  The title of today’s is write about the most precious thing you have lost.  I usually try to do the daily presses or Weekly presses ideals but rarely get round to them.  Mainly because I don’t make the effort to get my ideas to fit into the notions behind the idea, or I just quite simply don’t get myself into gear to complete the required elements of the task being asked of me.  Today none of that was an issue.

Write about the most precious thing you have lost.  I could start with the simple things of losing commercial items of sentimental value to me and how they miraculous re-appeared.  In which I am talking about my I-Pod Shuffle.  I am not a commercially driven person or a person is driven by labels. However this was a gift from an ex-partner and his sisters, with a personal engraving on the back.  How did I lose it? I don’t honestly recall.  I had it with me from a night out with friends where I was celebrating my birthday, as I remember listening to it on the train home from the city to the suburbs.  However the next morning when I went for it, it was not there.  I searched everywhere for it, throughout the flat where I was currently living, outside near the front door down to the open gate.  But no luck.  I had resided then to myself that it was gone for good.  At this point I had also split with my partner who had given it to me, so there was no awkward moment of having to try to explain what had happened.  Then several months later whilst on a telephone call with a recruitment agent for a job which was about to change my life forever. I was looking out of my bedroom window and there next to my passenger side front wheel of the car, something had caught my eye.  When I had finished my conversation I went out to take a look and there sat in amongst the weeds and the dirt was my shuffle.  I turned the shuffle over to see if the inscription was on the back and there it was. I was relieved and pleased to have found it.  Let alone amazed.  I wiped it down, plugged it in and it charged, still held my songs and played. Wow what luck was this I could not believe it.

But this is not the most precious thing I have lost is.  So why tell you this story then if this was not what I wanted to talk about.  I tell you this because the night I lost this was the night I started to lose the most precious thing in my life at that moment in time.

Coming up to 4 years ago, on a train back to my home from a night out with friends celebrating my birthday,  I received a telephone call to say that my mother had been rushed into hospital with Septicemia, C-DIFF along with several other conditions.  My mum had been in a wheelchair since I was 18 months old.  She then had my sister when I was nearly 5 and with the help of my father was a pro-active mother.  Helping out in our schools as part of the PTA, teaching children to bake, being involved with reading groups and teaching children to read.  In addition to this she had a condition called Neurofibromatosis.  A genetic disorder which has two strains.  Neither are pleasant and both have long-lasting affects on health and life spans.  The gene itself is dominant so if you have the gene you have the condition.  I don’t.  My sister does. My mum had been fighting for the past 10 years prior to that an infected abscess on your upper thigh, which was only starting to heal.  My brain went into shut down mood and I just wanted to get off the train.  Not understanding what C-Diff was I rang a friend whose husband was a doctor and a nurse I knew for guidance to try to help me assess the seriousness of the situation.  None of it really mattered, I was already scheduled to go home that weekend anyway with being my birthday I just wanted to know what I was going to be facing.  That weekend was one of the worst in my life.  As per usual mother and I argued.  Why?  because I had not told her I was coming home it was supposed to be a surprise and I wanted it kept so despite her being so ill.  Foolishly I though it would cheer her up.  We also argued as I had notified the nurses of her tendency to throw up food after eating.  She hated the fact that I would watch her purge and then scald her for it.  We had changed roles.  I was suddenly the hapless parent unable to save my child, who was has stubborn and opinionated as I was.  Would I have argued if I had known that was the last time I had seen my mum.  I would like to say no but that is probably not an honest answer.  Do I regret arguing with her.  No.  I do dislike that one of the last memories I have of me with my mum is a disagreement.  However, this also founded the basis of our relationship and a large part of why I am so self-reliant, independent and strong-willed today, is very much a result of that.

MY mum, me and Ella

The most precious thing I’ve Lost