Joan Porrett, my mum, was raised in Surrey during the second world war, she was one of a family of thirteen, not easy years for anyone. Her own mother died when she was only sixteen which probably made it doubly hard for a family of this size.
She was a hard working, strong independent person who went on to have eight children of her own, myself being one of them. In all she also had 30 grandchildren so a very busy lady.
Although she worked hard all her life she still knew how to have fun, she never learnt to drive, but I have memories of her taking all eight of us for days out, she would take us to the station and even getting on the train was fun going to places like Whipsnade Zoo or to the seaside or just to visit one of our many Aunts & Uncles.
The first bout of radio therapy ended the day before one of her many grandchildren's wedding day, and I can't tell you how amazed I was that she was on the dance floor all night, dancing and music was something she loved. Which at the time was a tribute that she wasn't going to let the cancer beat her.
She had various hobbies, gardening being one of her first loves, growing all her own vegetables and fruit and she never went out without a plastic bag and a pair of scissors in case she saw something she could take cuttings from. Once I went to Wisley Gardens with her, which at the time was a bit embarrassing as she proceeded to take cuttings from their very famous rockeries.
After her subsequent visit to the hospital for a check up she was told that the cancer was back and given only a few months to live, she refused any more treatment which would only have prolonged her life by a very short margin. Instead she set about spending time with her children, myself and my sisters arranged for her to come to Spain in May of 2002 so that we could all spend some quality time together, by this time my mum was very ill but she readily agreed to make the journey accompanied by my sisters, one flying in from South Africa. We had a lovely girlie time together, a hoard of memories to store for a later time.
It was shortly after she returned to the UK that I got a call telling me that time was short, I jumped on a plane that day and was at her side the same evening, she was amazing even in the Hospice. The day before she died I was amazed to see her sitting doing the crossword as she did every day of her life. It was a privilege to be with her till the end, holding her hand as she slipped from us. She was taken from us on the 30th June 2002 which was a big blow to all of us.
I can't sing enough praises to the hospice and the Macmillan nurses that helped my mum and all of us through an extremely difficult time.
It was after the death of my mother that I began to think about what could be done to raise funds to help combat this more often than not fatal disease, so you could say that she was my inspiration to do this trip. So when approached by Katrina, without hesitation we became two2timbuktu.
It's very hard to put into a few words what someone means to you, so if you'll forgive the indulgence I would like to share the poem I wrote a couple of days after my mother passed away which I hope portrays what she meant to me and my family.
A Tribute to my mum, Joan Porrett
What words can tell you how I felt
the day you slipped away
You were the rock in stormy seas
the sun on a summer's day
The centre of the family
Where all of us would come
You were always there for me
like the universe or sun
Although you must have suffered
nights of endless pain
You kept it hidden, never made a fuss
more concerned for all of us
You went away like a shadow
of your former self
But your force, your energy
lives on in each one of us
Its time to say my last goodnight
until we meet again
Now you will sleep in peace mum
and suffer no more pain
I love you mum.....Margo xxx
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