Facing fears are all about building up courage and strength, whether it’s over time, or in a split second, leaning over the edge of a plane, about to free-fall, that split second, you can choose to drop or choose to climb back in. I’ve always had a fear of heights, going up the Blackpool tower or the sky tower in Rhyl, North Wales. Heights have always gotten the better of me, and I certainly haven’t ever had a reason to build up the strength to conquer my fear, and I haven’t ever had to really challenge it on a day to day basis. One evening, I was doing the usual, sitting on my bedroom floor, browsing the internet on my laptop, when I caught a glimpse of the picture of my Nan that’s attached to my mirror, I’d looked at it a thousand times before, but this time I chose to take it off the mirror, and really look, at her facial expression, what she was wearing, how her glasses sat on her nose and how her hair looked, it was Nan, happy & healthy. A memory, but pictures are proof of people’s existence, I’ve always had questions about my Nan, and some have been answered, what was her favourite colour? Green, her living room was green, so was her kitchen. What was her favourite song? Islands in the Stream, or other songs by Daniel O’Donnel, but, something I never ever found out, what made Nan scared? She was a strong, independent woman, something must have scared her, it wasn’t spiders, she always used to get them in tissues when they scared me. Thinking back to her last few days with us made me consider, death, the idea of never waking up, in all honesty I don’t think it was that, I think it was, in a way, cancer. It scared her because it overpowered her once independent body, it made her weak and vulnerable, it took Maureen away from Maureen. And she’d had other family members die from it, so it must have been a thought in her head at some point? Then it hit me, if she could face a fear, why can’t I? I could face a fear, and put my selfishness away for a bit and focus on helping some other people for a change. I could raise money to help people with cancer, and at the same time bring my family together, to remember my Nans courage and bravery. Nan deserves remembrance, so that’s how the idea to skydive was born, I googled skydiving centres and found Black Knights, I emailed my local papers, and I got my family and friends on board to help raise a bit of money, My initial target was £500, I’m over £700 no so iv moved it on to £1000. 

i've aways wondered, what happens when the person who was a hero, or a giant becomes the one who needs advice, or isn't that hero or giant anymore- and you become aware that they're human and not invincible. I’ve seen this happen, my first hero became human and slowly but surely slipped away, into a deep sleep that managed to captivate her beauty and sense of helplessness. Seeing her die affected me in a way that not many people understand, I was 10, at the age of 10 your barely able to make a cup of coffee, not me, I had to be involved in my Nans existence become a memory, Nan “died”. The late Maureen Scott, born into a family of 12 children, she was the youngest, like myself.  Robert Benchley once said, “Death ends a life, not a relationship” and I have to agree. When my Nan died her soul, her body, her personality left. But something, some tiny piece of gold thread, has kept me attached to her, has kept me knowing she’s here somehow. Coming to terms with death was something that hit me like a train, I struggled, and I felt pain, hurt, disappointment, and great loss, all at the age of ten. The worst part of it though, was knowing that for about 2 years, she knew that she was slowing slipping away, that her time could come in a second, minute or month. She knew all along, and didn’t tell a soul, that hurt, I always think, if I was older, could I have saved her? It’s a question I’ll never get an answer to. Terminal cancer was a word to me at that age, so was death, I had never experienced it; if will be the first to admit I was sheltered in that area, unprepared for the Gail force wind that hit me.

 

We had gone to wales, in late April 2005, unaware it would be the last holiday with my Mum, Dad, my 11 year old brother, Luke. Grandad and myself, we would always go to wales as a “family” so to us, it was normal, fun for the first few days, but then, Nan got poorly, I’ll never forgot sitting in the hospital with her for hours, the dry, clean smell, it chills me to imagine, even now. She had hurt her neck “in her sleep” we were told, that was it, but it got worse, and after about 4 days we travelled home to Fleetwood. When the realisation that something was wrong became even more prominent and as the days became a week, I knew I was losing her, my hero was becoming mortal, and there was nothing I could do, it’s funny because I remember praying to God begging that if I promised to follow him forever and be a really good girl, my Nan would get better. God didn’t answer, in fact, nobody did, I didn’t get an explanation, I wasn’t told why she was poorly, what it was or how long I would have left, it turns out, ten short days after returning home from wales, on the 1 May 2005 at 7:30am, Maureen Scott, died. Years later I got the explanation I asked for, her poorly neck, was in fact, cancerous tumours, travelling through her neck, That’s how quick it spreads, that vile, disgusting, heart breaking disease, when at that stage, shuts your whole body down, that hurt, knowing that it vined its way through my Nans delicate, tiny body, and took over her like it was “cancers” to claim. When it wasn’t cancers, it was Maureen’s. She really was beautiful, everything about her was, but beauty can’t save somebody. But hopefully through things like this, I’m doing a good job of keeping her memory alive.

 

I still cry, I do a lot, I still think her death could have been prevented and I still wonder what could have been, what she would have thought about Jack, if she would have been proud of me, and if we still would have been as close. But in a way I’m thankful she isn’t, because she wasn’t in pain when she died, she just slipped away. I wouldn’t be half as strong as I am today and I probably wouldn’t have some of the relationships with certain people I’m close to now, Nan managed to inspire me to achieve more than was expected of me, I’m small, like she was, but that doesn’t stop me from doing or being anything. I’m thankful for the time I had with Maureen, She really does keep my strength up, even now I always thank her for the memories she gave me, and for being the best Nan in the whole wide world!