An anniversary gift to Andy

The best piece of advice I have ever been given was by a colleague when I was working at Hewlett Packard.  I really wanted a global role and to spend more time working internationally.  "Decide what you really want and make it happen" she said "otherwise you will just make an excuse".

This has become the mantra for how I have lived my life ever since. (I got the role by the way).   It's what has helped me to develop the resilience and drive to get through some of my toughest times over the past few years.  

I wanted to be the best possible mum for Daisy, I wanted to make sure that our other children did not miss out on childhood, I wanted to ensure our marriage would survive...

After Andy died I was determined to write the book that he so wanted me to write.  I wanted it to be published by our 25th wedding anniversary, my gift to him.

So young! 12th September 1992

London Marathon 2016: Job done.

2016 London Marathon done, not a personal best time but pretty decent at 04:24 given everything else I have had on my plate.....

It was emotional at points, being out on the course for over four hours gives you a lot of thinking time but I was lifted by all the people lining the route, especially my friends from ShootingStar-Chase Hospice and from the Wimbledon Windmilers Running Club.

Memories, milestones & wishing time would stand still

So we're mid way through March, spring is definitely here in London.  Yesterday I did a 20 mile training run in preparation for the London Marathon.  The Thames towpath was slowly coming back to life after winter, hawthorn blossom, clumps of daffodils.

Easter is looming full of rebirth and new life, but I want time to stand still, I wanted time to stand still from December last year.

I'm not alone in this, a recent conversation with another woman  also widowed prematurely in 2015 confirmed she felt the same as me.  We both discussed how New Year's Eve had affected us, I wanted the year to go on forever because the chime of the bells at midnight meant that we were no longer in the year he had died, that it was already in the past, she felt the same, it was a relief to know I was not being irrational.

My Eulogy for Andy's Memorial Service

We gave Andy a wonderful send off, filled with friends, laughter, music, stories, just as he wished.  People travelled from all over the world to be there and it gave the children and I such comfort to see all these fabulous people from so many areas of Andy's life talking and sharing memories.  We held a Celebration/Memorial Service at Andy's former Drama School in London on Saturday 2nd January and followed it with his Funeral Service on Monday.

We played many of the songs that Andy had requested and friends sang, read and shared stories of time spent with him, we even had a singalong to Hey Jude at the end of the memorial!

Our children delivered incredible, heartfelt eulogies at the funeral, telling everyone how they would life the life their Dad had prepared them for, full of optimism and hope, fulfilling their potential and seizing the moment - I not have been more proud.

I spoke at both the Memorial Service and at the Funeral and here's the transcript of my speech at the Memorial - it is very lengthy so you may want to grab a cup of coffee before you start reading, it's just indicative of the full life Andy lived.  Thank you to everyone who has reached out to our family over these weeks, now we are going to have to learn to live yet another new life, this time the one without Andy.

Daisy has been amazing, just like the rest of the children and we will be releasing some balloons in the next day or so with her so that she can say her own private goodbye, I will also blog on what it has been like helping a child with a learning disability understand that their daddy has died as I have already learned a huge amount on what and what not to do or say.

Steph's Speech for Andy's Memorial Service - 2nd January 2016

Andy and I spoke a lot about funerals and celebrations, he was determined that his friends who knew him well and had shared so many experiences had an opportunity to share stories and have a laugh and reflect on a life well lived.  It was never going to be about mourning or regret, that wasn’t Andy.  The thing he really wanted you all to know was that he did not lose a battle with cancer.  For him it was about optimising the odds, science, drugs, knowledge a smattering of NLP to give him the longest survival time.  That time was just over a year.  It was in the end less than he had hoped for but more than we ever thought possible in November 2014 when we were told that he had advanced, incurable colorectal cancer.

Andy Nimmo. 26/11/62 - 14/12/15. RIP.

The moment we heard the news that Andy's cancer was now inoperable we knew that the clock was ticking like never before.  We went home and booked flights to Scotland to see his family but first was a very important date, one that had been in the diary for a long time.

Even though Andy had been told he only had weeks to live it was really important to him, and me, that we attend the premier of a film which told the story of a dear friend, you can read about Danny's story  in the piece I wrote a few days later, on World Aids Day http://www.independent.co.uk/voices/growing-up-in-the-home-counties-as-a-child-with-hiv-clinics-with-codenames-and-secrets-from-a6755496.html.

We flew to Scotland the next day and had a wonderful 24 hours with friends and family - how joyous to have the privilege of saying goodbye and making sure nothing was left unsaid.  It was a bittersweet flight back to London but we came home to a wonderful week with family and friends, spending time with our children, spending time with our friends and spending time with eachother.

Last Saturday we ticked off the last bucket list item as our friends at Believe in Magic and Arsenal Football club organised the best day ever - a box at Arsenal to watch a premiership match.

 If you were told you only had a few weeks to live what would you do?  We filled every day, we saw friends and Andy was able to say the things he wanted to say. Friends flew in from all over the world, we shared the happiest of memories, we cried many tears.

But the most difficult thing was to think about the loss in our little family unit of six.  Every time we thought about him leaving the tears came and it was too painful to think about.  In a way last week we were saved from having to think too much by another Daisy curveball.  Andy had to go into hospital on Monday as he was dehydrated and needed iv fluids, 24 hours later Daisy was blue lighted to our local hospital as she was having multiple seizures and needed to be started on her second line rescue medication.  I was caught up in just being the plate spinner and had little time to thing of what was to come.

Daisy was stabilised and came home.  There was hope that Andy could have a palliative procedure to his liver that would maybe buy him some more weeks, maybe months.  But it wasn't to be.  Andy became too poorly and last Friday I moved heaven and earth to bring him home to begin his final journey.

He sat in his chair at home, had a few sips of beer , watched some TV, enjoyed the chaos of a typical Friday evening in our home.  Then, the fatigue overwhelming him, we managed to get him upstairs and into bed.

We spent the weekend camped in our bedroom, the children coming and going, stroking his hair, talking to him and telling him how much they loved him as he slowly deteriorated.  

Andy passed away peacefully at home at 1pm today, Monday 14th December.

He waited for Daisy to leave the house safely on her way to the hospice  before he died, knowing how upsetting it would be for her to be in the house at the same time.  I told him he could go and could not understand why he was still fighting and lingering on. And then it clicked, even though he had been unconscious since the night before  he raised his hand and tried to speak as Daisy shouted goodbye through the door.  He needed to know that she was safe in order to be free to leave.

In control until the end he took his last breaths while I held his hand , he looked at me one last time and peacefully passed away

 I am heartbroken but so thankful for 27 amazing years we shared together, we did not take a single moment for granted, he was and will always be my soulmate.

His legacy lives on in his four incredible children. What an absolute honour to have been able to give him a good death and to have been part of his life.

I am sitting here tonight, reading all the wonderful messages and tributes that have been sent to Andy.  He touched so many lives and it is giving us such immense comfort to know how much he was loved, we knew he was amazing, to hear others reflect it back in their anecdotes warms our hearts.

Daisy is safe in her hospice tonight, as always they have been our safety net in times of crisis.  Tomorrow I will go and tell her that this time the doctors could not fix her Daddy.  Then we will look at all the lovely pictures of things we have done together as a family, we lived so much, we seized every moment, we took nothing for granted.

Thank you Andy, for everything.

Rest in Peace, my love.

It's times like these you learn to live again

It's funny the opportunities adversity can throw at you.  We have found this with Daisy, we have experienced the lowest of lows at times but also have had a world opened up to us that would never have been possible if we had not been the parents of life limited child with her level of complexity (and huge personality!).

Cancer Relationship Status: It's Complicated

I guess it's time for an update on Andy's cancer treatment. It's 6 months since he was first diagnosed with stage 4, metasticised colorectal cancer.  On diagnosis he was found to have a large tumour in his bowel which has burst out of the wall and three very large tumours on his liver.  He started on a very brutal chemo regimen of 3 different chemo drugs plus a monoclonal antibody and after 8 rounds scans showed the tumours had shrunk back by nearly 50%.