Leaning towards my mum’s wheelchair, I planted a goodbye kiss on her cheek.
‘Great to see you looking so happy again,’ she smiled.
Glancing at my new bloke Ian Roberts, then 40, I had to agree.
It was autumn 2011, and I’d been really excited to introduce my lovely mum Marion, 74, to Ian.
We’d been dating for a few months and I’d already asked him to move in.
I hadn’t felt all that sure at first, though.
On our first date, Ian had admitted cheating in a previous relationship.
‘I’d never do it again,’ he’d said.
For me, a single mum to a son and a daughter, it was a red flag.
But Ian had persisted until I’d eventually agreed to a second date, and the spark had been undeniable.
Now it meant so much to have my mum’s seal of approval.
While her age had caught up with her recently, she was as funny and sharp-witted as ever.
Not long after, I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia – a long-term condition that causes pain all over the body – after struggling with severe muscle discomfort. The medication and my inability to do exercise meant my weight ballooned.
But Ian was so supportive. He couldn’t do enough for me, sorting out my medication, cooking meals. He was great with Mum, too, helping her and my dad with odd jobs or mowing their lawn.
In June 2013, Ian and I married and it was the happiest day of my life.
‘You look so happy,’ Mum had whispered, as we posed for pictures. Over the following four years, Ian and I had our ups and downs, but we were in love.
Then, in February 2017, Mum went to hospital with suspected gall stones. But further tests revealed she had pancreatic cancer. Sitting in the examination room, we were all speechless. Then we found out that she had only months to live.
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