Dear Lisa

It's May.  I've posted photos my Facebook page and they're greyscale, because it's Brain Tumour Awareness month and the colour is grey.  I look at the photos of the scenary I love and call home, and the children I love and hold precious with the colour drained out of them and think how fitting it is. When my child was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour all the colour left my world.  But it is 5 years ago now.... and that is cause indeed for celebration.  They have been gruelling years and I wish I could go and whisper in my ear some things I've learned along the way.... for this is what I'd tell myself.

My dearest Lisa,
Your world is about to change.  You are going to get up one morning and everything will be normal, but it is never going to be normal again.  Your baby girl is going to look so small and fragile and you will have to endure the longest night watching her life ebb away.  There will be discussions about harvesting her organs and you will scream silently and vomit in the sink.  You will pray, beg and try and make all kinds of deal with God to take you in her place and you are going to feel like you are disconnected from your body, mind and soul.  You are going to be forever changed by this event.
But know this, Lisa.  She is going to survive that night.  She is going to survive the 8 hour surgery to remove that tumour and she is going to get through the months of cancer treatment that lie in front of you.
Breathe.  Keep breathing. You are going to have travel out of country for treatment and you are going to crumble.  But during this time you are going to meet some people and they are going to become the lifelong friend kind of people.  Your stories are now interwoven and you will be forever grateful that it was exactly these people that you met during those times.  You will take your girl and they will fill her body with drugs and her brain with radiation and one day you will be overcome with it all and collapse on the corridor floor leaving the radiation room.   You will be picked up and carried by a man to a sofa who will hold you for 5 mins and just let you cry in his arms. The kindness of strangers is great indeed. You'll then panic about your son but he'll tell you it's all taken care of.  And after a while he'll carry on his day and you'll carry on yours and there will be many moments like this.
There will be a barrage of mascara Mondays and 5 years on, you will allow a smile to play on your lips when you stand in front of the makeup counter looking for non-waterproof mascara.  You know how  the woman shopping beside you is just looking for mascara, but to you, its brave in a bottle.
You will yearn for your home and your family.  Know this - you will get there.  You will get your hearts desire and make that change.  You will get there.