“There’s no rulebook for life after losing someone you love”

My mum was lovely, outgoing, and always there for her friends and family. About five years ago, she was diagnosed with neuroendocrine cancer. Although we knew it would eventually take her from us, she managed the illness with bravery and determination.

In November last year, I received the call no one ever wants to get. My dad told me, “Your mum has been taken into hospital, and there’s nothing more they can do. She is being moved to the Marie Curie Hospice, Cardiff.”

At the hospice, she had her own private room overlooking Penarth seafront through a floor-to-ceiling window. The setting was beautiful, peaceful, and full of dignity.

I remember sitting with her, overlooking the bay, telling her what a wonderful mum she had been and thanking her for all she had done for me. It was heartbreaking, but also an honour.

The hospice was beautifully festive, with decorations, carols, and a warm atmosphere. The cast of the Cardiff pantomime visited – including Gethin Jones, whom Mum adored – and they made her laugh so much.

On Christmas Day, I spent the morning in Manchester with my wife, Sally, and the children before driving down to Cardiff. We exchanged presents with Mum and later Dad and I went out for a curry.

This Christmas, Dad will be coming up to Manchester; he doesn’t want to be at home. It’s our first Christmas without Mum so we’ve decided to do things a little differently.

We’ll carry on our new tradition and go for a curry, like we did last year. It feels right to do something relaxed and in keeping with what we both enjoy.

It’s hard to know how it will feel – we’re going through so many firsts this year: my first birthday without Mum, and soon I’ll be returning to the same hotel in Tenerife where I received that call about her.

There’s no rulebook for life after losing someone you love. You just take each day as it comes. As I have heard it described recently ‘grief is just the other side of love’.

When I got a place in the London Marathon back in June, my first thoughts were a mix of excitement and nerves. The thought ‘What an amazing opportunity to raise money for such a meaningful cause’ was followed quickly by ‘What have I done?’

I know Mum would be proud – proud of me, and proud of the reason I’m running: to raise money and awareness for Marie Curie.

I just want to enjoy the experience. However long it takes, even if it’s ten hours, doesn’t matter. My hope is that the money I raise will help others in the same situation Mum was in, and their families. So far, I’ve raised £2,800, and I’m determined to raise even more.

When I’m training and it gets tough, I think about what Mum went through in her final weeks. If she could face that with such courage, I can certainly run 26.2 miles.

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