A Journey Through Loss and Healing

Writing my story is a challenge, as it delves into memories and emotions long kept guarded. It begins with my birth, following years of my Mum and Dad trying to have a child and eventually adopting my older brother. The joy of my arrival was soon overshadowed by my Dad's diagnosis with Multiple Myeloma when I was only 18 months old. During the early 1980s, this was a rare and formidable cancer, and the only treatment available was at the Royal Marsden Hospital in Surrey. This meant lengthy separations as my brother and I stayed with relatives while my parents attended his treatments.

Childhood Without a Father

I was just over four when my Dad died, and my brother was about 12. In those days, attending a parent’s funeral as a young child was not customary, so I never got to say goodbye. Some years later, my Mum met her new partner and I gained a stepdad and stepbrother until the age of ten. Conversations about my Dad were occasional in social settings, yet within the private confines of our home, he was scarcely mentioned. This unspoken rule left me with an array of unanswered questions and a void where memories should have been. Mum always struggled with the emotions of losing her childhood sweetheart, using alcohol to dampen those feelings and enable her to cope raising two young children.

I grew up being told I was the spitting image of my Dad, a comment that sparked a sadness in me. And the overwhelming need to deflect away from that subject. I knew him only through photographs, which failed to conjure any memories. It wasn't until my Mum’s death in April 2017 that I encountered a moving image of him for the first time. During the emotional task of clearing the family home, we discovered an old cine reel. There he was, walking in front of our home, a young man pottering around the garden, smoking a cigarette. I planned the time for watching the video as I knew it would be difficult and I had learned from a young age to keep my feelings to myself. The children were both at school and my husband was out on errands. I even chose to use the TV upstairs so that I could make an excuse and have time to turn it off prior to being found.

Embracing Openness in Grief

There are still many unanswered questions for me and a deep sadness that mainly surfaces during the milestone birthdays or events. When my Mum became terminally ill, I made the decision to do things differently with my two young children then, who were 3 and 7 years old. They came to help me to care for my Mum and saw with their own eyes how she changed with the illness. I explained at their level of understanding what was going on and allowed them to visit frequently, in the hospice during her final week. Her funeral became a celebration and both of my children attended. We all learned new stories and made memories together, completely uniting us in our grief. I still maintain this level of openness with my children who are now 10 and 15.

Embracing grief and all that it encompasses, lays at the very heart of who I am both personally and professionally as a registered nurse. So much so, I am now one of the proud co-founders of Windmills Charity, a local charity that provides a proactive service, allowing children and young people to be fully supported and prepared, with a deep understanding of death and dying.

Running the London Marathon in Memory and Hope

On the 26th of April, 2026, I will lace up my running shoes with a heart full of memories and a spirit of hope. Two days prior would have marked what would have been my father's 80th birthday—a milestone that deserves celebrating. His legacy lives on, not just in the memories we cherish but also in the actions we take to support others.

In the true spirit of Windmills, where we focus on making memories and celebrating milestones, I will undertake the epic challenge of the London Marathon!

Supporting Vulnerable Children and Young People

Running this marathon is not only a personal tribute but also a commitment to the many children and young people we've supported through Windmills. These individuals face significant challenges and vulnerabilities, often during the most critical times in their lives. Each step I take will be in honour of their resilience and in the hope of providing them with the support they need to navigate through difficulties.

Looking Towards the Future

This marathon is also about looking forward—towards the children and young people we are yet to meet but will undoubtedly encounter as tragedy and vulnerability arise. Our mission is to be there, ready to offer support, guidance, and hope. By running the marathon, I aim to raise awareness and funds to continue this vital work.

Join Me on This Journey

I invite you to join me on this journey, whether by cheering from the sidelines, or contributing to our cause. Together, we can make a difference in the lives of those who need it most, continuing the legacy of love and support.

As I cross the finish line, it will not just mark the end of a race but the continuation of a mission—to create a world where every child and young person receives the care and support they deserve.