Je ne regrette rien .... Or do I?

There are two parts to this blog. My thoughts regarding the treatment that Evie underwent while she was ill and what we did or didn’t do while she was growing up; hence the question at the end of the title. One of the things that is a huge relief is that I truly believe that we did everything that we could have done to make Evie’s last weeks as comfortable as possible, and I don’t have any worries about anything that we did. I know that we fought the system, called in every favour and made absolutely certain that she was given every chance, right to the very end. Given my time again, with only very very minor tweaks, I would do the same again. So …. I don’t have any regrets or overhanging doubts.

But …… I do have other regrets.

We have very few recordings of her voice, and even fewer videos or films of her. Like most new parents, we had bought a camcorder when she was born and then didn’t use it. Even with the advent of mobile phones being able to take video footage, we still didn’t do it very often. We literally have thousands of photographs, and for that I am truly grateful. But we only have a small handful of videos. A 2-dimensional image is all well and good, but a video is a very different beast. Likewise, listening to her talk, brings her back to me too. She did a short interview on the radio with Simon Mayo talking about country music, but she was a bit formal. Even so, just hearing her voice is lovely.

I was lucky with work when she was at school in that I could get to quite a few of her sports events and matches, although she was rarely in the A teams for the various activities. I looked around at the parents present and it was sad to see so few fathers there. I’m glad I managed to get to so many. We can’t replace those opportunities now. I still miss not being there for ALL of them though. We also attended all of her music events, both playing the saxophone or singing in the chamber choir. She was thrilled to be involved in the choir and when she went to senior school, she neglected to apply for the one there straight away and regretted it. She applied again as soon as she could and was selected; happy child again. She really enjoyed singing and I am so glad that we went to so many performances. Kids love to make their parents proud. Those moments are fleeting and when your child has gone, even when they leave home, your chance to be involved has disappeared. Don’t pass up any opportunity because I promise you that one day you’ll regret it. For me the old excuse of ‘I’m too busy working to go’ doesn’t wash. If you can’t enjoy your child’s performances, what’s the point in working in the first place?

Evie was an incredible girl - I would say that wouldn’t I? There’s a film called ‘Arrival’ and one of the themes running through it is that the woman knows the future and that her daughter will die, and has the chance to side step having a child and prevent the loss. She doesn’t take it. That’s a massive decision, and not one that I intend to explore here, but you know what? I think I’d do exactly the same thing. Whilst I would give anything to spare Evie the pain that the tumour brought, she also brought an immeasurable amount of joy and love into our lives, and to those of the people she met. You can’t regret that.