Take The Scotty's Pledge

Robert was an amazing man; he was quiet but had such a witty sense of humour. He was quietly confident although he didn’t enjoy being the centre of attention, but his humour drew people to him. He was kind, caring and helped everyone, and he was a really big family man. Rob loved fixing things and he could never quite remove all the oil stains from his fingers, he’d spend hours in the garage stripping down motorbikes and then building them back up. He was so happy at home with his family, playing with Lucy and Edward, teaching them to cook, watching films and reading stories.

We met when I was 21 and he 22, through a mutual friend. I wasn’t looking to get his attention, but he liked my sarcastic humour and insults. We just seemed to work, we got on really well and I really looked forward to seeing him. He’d only been in the RAF for six months when we met so our relationship was long-distance, but we’d see each other at the weekend and speak on the phone often.

In 2001, he went on tour to Ireland. When he returned, he proposed to me at the Eagle Centre in Derby. He didn’t get down on one knee and he managed to put the ring on the wrong finger but I loved it! We married the following year, on 25th May.

We had Lucy a few years later in 2004 and Edward in 2006. Rob was over the moon at becoming a dad. He was so caring and loveable; his children meant the world to him. When we were dating it was always Rob who talked about having children, he even thought he’d complimented me by saying I had child baring hips!! I still love him for it.

We bought our first home together in May 2013 and that summer we enjoyed a two-week family holiday. It was while we were on holiday that Rob first mentioned that he’d started suffering with headaches.

After the holiday, Rob returned to work to finish the last week of his six-month posting in High Wycombe, but he was unable to work as he was feeling so unwell. I spoke with him on the phone and he said that he was lying on the floor as it was the only place he could get comfortable and he kept vomiting when he stood up.

When I arrived to pick him up, he was in a really bad way. I packed his stuff as he lay on the bed. He couldn’t walk; he was staggering everywhere. I drove him home, all the while he had his jumper over his head so that his eyes didn’t hurt. He wouldn’t let me call the doctor, so I drove him there instead. I think the doctor saw the look in my eye and I refused to move until something was done. The doctor told me to take him straight down to King’s Lynn hospital and that’s when all hell broke loose. They took Rob straight in for a CT scan. Rob had a Brain Tumour. When they came back, they immediately started squeezing steroids into him and transferred him by ambulance to Addenbrooke’s Hospital. There they operated on him and when he came round, he was my Rob again and couldn’t believe how ill he’d been.

After the surgery they gave him radiotherapy for three weeks. Following the radiotherapy, he had chemotherapy in King’s Lynn and finished the cycle when he turned 40.

After his treatment it felt as though life was returning to normal, however, in March 2014 Rob’s balance started going again. I consulted many doctors but no matter how many times I told them my concerns, no one would listen, they kept saying that there was no way he could have another brain tumour so soon. I had to fight to get him seen.

In June 2014, the doctors confirmed that the tumour had come back, and they put Rob straight back onto the steroids. They sent him home, but he was really bad, so I called and said that he needed to see someone, but they just told me to pick-up anti-sickness injections. Nobody would see him.

On 17 July, Rob was due for his pre-op. He couldn’t move. I called and said, ‘how am I supposed to get him to you.’ On 18th July they took us into a small room, and they said Rob’s brain was full of little nodules and there was nothing else they could do. Rob said he’d do any medical trial, anything to try and get rid of them. He was due to be transferred to end of day care, but he died on 18th August, the day he was scheduled to be moved.

That day I had to explain to our young children, who were nine and seven years old at the time, what had happened to their daddy. I will never forget the imagine of my children sitting on the sofa and their reaction to the news, it’s one of the worst moments of my life. Since Rob had first become unwell, I was careful about what I said to Lucy and Edward. I spoke with the nurses who advised me I had to be honest but on their level. To explain his illness, we drew a healthy cell and an unhealthy cancer cell, which looked like a mushy pea. I can’t imagine being that young and looking at your daddy, seeing him come home with a big scar down his head, having to drop him off and pick him up after treatment. No child should have to go through that, and then it got worse still and I had to have the conversation I hoped I would never have.

We tried so hard to get back to normal, but it was so difficult. The children went back to school when it started in September to bring in some normality. We were just really sad, especially at bedtime when daddy wasn’t there to kiss them goodnight.

A friend had told me about Scotty’s Little Soldiers, but at first I was really hesitant about calling them as I thought it was for children who had lost a parent whilst on tour and I was just trying to do everything to ensure that my children weren’t traumatised. But she encouraged me and told me I had nothing to lose.

And it really did help, especially as we could join straight away, so immediately Lucy and Edward both received a goody bag and on Remembrance Sunday we were sent vouchers for Pizza Hut.

When December arrived the year that Rob died, the last thing we wanted to do as a family was celebrate. Even Edward at the age of eight said, ‘we don’t do Christmas, I’m not writing a list!’

It was heart-breaking to hear my eight and ten-year-old say they can't write a list to Santa or be happy again because their daddy had died. It's so difficult because the last thing you feel like doing three months after your husband has died is Christmas. At the time, I was exhausted and scared, part of me wondered if I could even do Christmas on my own. Rob cooked the most amazing Christmas dinner every year and I knew my effort would be nowhere near his. The thought of the empty chair that was going to be at our Christmas table hurt too much to even think about, all I could think about was how do we deal with this? Knowing how I felt and what I was worrying about, I couldn't begin to imagine how Lucy and Edward were feeling, Christmas with no daddy.

Then the invite came through from Scotty’s Little Soldiers for its Christmas party in Manchester. I didn’t know what to expect but thought they’ll be people there in the same boat as me and I just had to bite the bullet. We went to the party and whilst there, Edward hurried over to me and said, ‘come and play, you can do cause there’s nothing for you to do’. As a single mum you’re so busy, so it gave us the opportunity to spend time together. The kids met other children who had also lost their parent and they were smiling and enjoying themselves, which made Lucy and Edward realise despite being sad about their dad, it was okay to have a good time.

After the party we went to my mum and dad’s house. Lucy and Edward came away with the biggest goody bags and told my parents what we’d done. They were happy. When we arrived home, they wrote Christmas lists immediately. I know it sounds corny but putting a smile on their faces was 100% what Scotty’s did that day, they showed Lucy and Edward that they can still do Christmas, have fun and be happy.

Over the years we’re received incredible support from the whole team, what the charity has done for my children is priceless, but that year, when we really needed them, they were there and I’ll always be grateful to them for giving my children Christmas back.