Mamma

It's strange. When something unthinkable and horrible happens to people. Something that has a huge impact on their lives they often say that they don't understand how life seems to go on as if nothing has happened. They sometimes say it's as if they are playing pretend in the real world that everything is fine. While at the same time their world is falling into little pieces.
I think it's the other way around. When I talk about my mums cancer (there you go. First time I've written those words on here), I feel as if I am playing pretend. When we discuss treatments, tumors sizes and side effects of chemotherapy, it's as if we are all playing a really horrible version of pretend. Because surely this can't be happening to us? Then when we stop talking about it and instead discuss yesterday's round of golf we are back to normal life. Stopped pretending everything is horrible, and sad, and painful.
We go back to being the loving, quirky, wonderful, healthy family that we have always been. Because surely, when we talk about which organs that have been affected. Or when we discuss how to fit as much normal life as possible in around her treatments. Surely that's not my mum we're talking about? It can't be. She's going to live to be a hundred. And love and spoil and play with her grandchildren. And retire and move to that beautiful Italian house they bought last summer.
My mum can't be sick. Surely that's all just one evil game of pretend? A really cruel prank someone is playing on us?