The Space In Between

I had intended to write a regular blog on my experiences of moving to Orkney from Somerset, to record on a weekly or fortnightly basis the excitement and frustrations such a move would present to us and how as a family we would cope and settle into our new lives. However, it has been five months since I last posted a blog. In many respects the time has flown, certainly moving and starting a new job has meant that I have had little time to sit and write, but the reality is, I haven't wanted to write.

My last blog was published on 20th April, and I spoke about Lucia and my friends and how leaving was going to be a challenge, but not as challenging as fighting cancer. Four days after I published that blog, Lucia was told her cancer was terminal.

Lucia was only given a short time left to live and spent those last few weeks surrounded by her family in the most amazing place - Children's Hospice South West at Charlton Farm near Bristol.  This oasis of peace and love became a home and a sanctuary to her and her family over the remaining weeks, nothing was too much trouble, the staff were just amazing.  Over those seven weeks we did what we could to help and support Lucia and Melina, but the idea of writing about what was happening felt like an intrusion, something that was not mine to share.

I felt guilty about moving my life forward when Melina's life was about to shatter. How very English! You know the feeling, that guilty feeling, where you feel responsible for something that isn't your fault or for something that is not happening to you, and how you think you should be punished in some way for it! I detested the idea of writing anything, it felt wrong to be talking about something positive that was happening in my life when this devastating event was happening to my friend. And how dare I even think about expressing the grief and sadness I felt, when it could never, ever be anything like that which I saw every day in the eyes of Melina and Lucia's family. So I made the decision to put the blog on hold.

So, despite the prognosis, our plans to move continued, this wasn't without much heartache and soul searching. We discussed postponing the move, but both Lucia and Melina generously said we must go. The memory of Melina leaping out of the door of the hospice, the day before we moved, Superman like in her onesie, yelling "follow your dream" whilst punching the air, still makes me laugh and cry.

Lucia passed away on 3rd June, 10 days after we moved.

Lucia with Charlie Simpson from Busted

Living on an island means that everyone knows and everyone understands. Unless you are able to get a direct flight from Kirkwall, that isn't delayed, and doesn't cost the earth, then you can't get anywhere fast. So having time off to fly back to Somerset via Inverness for her funeral was not a problem for work, everyone knew and everyone understood. Those three days were probably the most emotional of my life and sharing it with you, again, feels like an intrusion on Melina and the family's grief. However, I will say, having an escort of Storm Troopers out of the church is one of the most awesome things I have seen and I cannot thank the volunteers who did this enough.

Leading up to the funeral, my friend Mel recited a poem by Linda Ellis called The Dash, it is copyright so I can't post it here. The poem refers to the dash, that little line that is written between your birth date and your death date, and asks the question, how have you lived your dash? What have you achieved to fill the space in between those two dates? Have you lived a reactive or a proactive life? Is life something that just happens to you? Or do you make life happen?

Sixteen years is not a long life, but Lucia made it a full life. And I am in awe of her because of it.

She moved from Bolivia to the UK, learned a foreign language and spoke it not just beautifully, but fluently. She was an amazing artist, she travelled, she studied hard (and partied hard!) - sat her mock GCSEs despite having her treatment. She set up a charity, raised thousands of pounds and raised awareness of teenage cancers. She was also the catalyst that brought people together from all over the world, forming friendships that will last a lifetime. Any one of us would be proud to be able to say we had achieved just one of those things, she lived her dash, filled that space.

Golden Sunset over Hoy, Orkney

And so moving to Orkney is a dream come true, and I am living that dream and all the highs and lows that come with it. I am now determined to keep this blog updated regularly so that when my time comes, I can look back and know I gave it a go and I made it happen. I may not get an escort of Storm Troopers when I leave the church for the last time, but at least I will know that I have lived my dash, that I have filled that space in between.

Lucia Robinson 19/05/99 - 03/06/15

Please see www.linda-ellis.com  - The Dash 1996.