⚠️ I'm sorry. ⚠️
This wasn't how I expected it to be - I expected it to be lonely, scary, and sad. It wasn't though. Despite how it had looked to me when I went through it with my parents, with Janice, with the other members of our family; now it was me, I wasn't lonely, scared or sad. Instead, when I looked around the room, body tired but heart still full, I saw the faces of the people I loved the most. I knew they'd be okay, and that was enough for me. The doctor had been in, he'd whispered something to Leah - I knew it was that I hadn't got much time left. She gave the nod to our children, leaving the room so Aoife could talk to me alone; the first of my five last conversations.
She paced the room at first, eyes watering as she tried to prevent me from seeing it. She had Leah's build, making her look even more vulnerable than she already did; those long legs, muscly but slender body, and prominent features that made her a social media star without relying on who her parents were.
"It's okay to be sad in front of me, Aoifs. You know that?" I whispered, voice frail.
"I don't want to be weak, mum. I don't want to leave you with the image of me being weak."
"Then come get into bed with me, one last time, and let's talk about things that don't make you sad."
She obliged immediately, taking a seat on the bed beside me and lowering her head to my chest. At first it was silent, just a mother and daughter inwardly recalling the memories they had shared along the years; when the time was right, she began to recall them outwardly, she began to realise that goodbye didn't have to mean sadness.
"Do you remember my Arsenal senior team debut?" She chuckled.
"Like yesterday, Aoifs." I smiled.
Flashback:
"You two better not cry, I mean it! If you start crying I'll actually die off." Aoife pouted.
"I'm all cried out, I'll be nothing but proud. Your mum though, she's definitely going to cry." I chuckled.
"I mean it, mum!"
"No promises, but I'll try my best." Leah sighed.
We travelled to the stadium with the rest of the family, our hearts full of nothing but pride as we received the complimentary match day guide; our little girl, all grown up, proudly on the front of it.
"She's beautiful." I smiled.
"She's done us so proud. So proud."
Leah shifted about in her seat during the warm ups, nerves taking over as she tried to reassure herself that Aoife was ready for this. There's no going back after your debut. That's what she kept telling me, worried that people would make a comparison between Aoife and her mother at every opportunity; both having completely different positions and playing styles.
"Al, what're you doing?" Leah cocked an eyebrow.
"Putting an earphone in, what does it look like?"
"Why?" Leah screwed her face up.
"Because I wanna hear what they say about her on the commentary when she comes out."
"Oh - good idea - give me an earphone."
So that's how we stood, beaming down as we watched the team walk out and seeing Williamson splashed across the shirt of our daughter, who would go on to captain Arsenal and England; just as her mum had.
Contrary to my promises, I sobbed. Leah managed to hold it together, but every shot that the cameras got of me showed me drowning in tears, and clapping as loud as my hands would let me.
"You said you wouldn't cry!" Aoife chuckled as she came to find us after the game.
"I didn't!" Leah protested.
"The interviewer literally said 'your mum was emotional wasn't she' there now."
I stood looking guilty.
"Oh my god! It was you!" Aoife chuckled harder.
"Guilty." I smiled.
"I'm all cried out - yeah right, mum!"
— — — —
"Those shots of you crying were so ugly." She giggled.
"Hey you, I'm not too sick, and you're not too old, for me to tickle you." I laughed as I used all the strength I had to tickle her sides.
She chuckled a little, letting herself fall silent for a few moments before she spoke again.
"All those times I said I hate you when I was younger, you know I didn't mean them? I only ever loved you, mummy. I only ever loved you."
"I know that, baby. I know that my girl." I whispered.
"I'm not going to stop, you know? I'm not going to stop making you proud. I won't stop ever."
"You better not. Because wherever I am, I'll be watching you." I smiled.
"Swearing at me from afar?"
"Always. Just don't tell your mum." I chuckled.
"I love you, mum."
"I fucking love you too." I grinned.
"I'm telling mum!"
We talked a little longer before she left, giving Theo his time with me. Theo was always the softest of all our children, he wore his heart on his sleeve, and it didn't matter who told him shouldn't. I was so proud of him for that.
Despite his soft nature, he entered the room with nothing but a smile on his face. No tears, no sadness, and no devastation. Just a smile. He sat beside the bed, lifting my blanket slightly to pull it around my shoulders.
"That better, mum?"
"That's better." I smiled.
"There isn't really much that I want you to know that I haven't already told you."
"My big softie." I chuckled.
"You know it. There's one thing though, mum. One thing I think you need to know before you're happy to let go."
"What's that?"
He took a deep breath, swallowing the lump back in his throat before he spoke again.
"We're going to look after mum, just how you looked after Granda when your mum wasn't around. We'll never let her be on her own for too long, we'll never let her cry for too long, and we'll never let her wish she'd said something - we'll remind her that you knew. I know you know that we'll be okay, mum - but we'll make her okay until she joins you."
I turned my head to look at him, smiling up at his handsome face and nodding slowly. He was right; I remembered the pain of losing my parents, I had to go on. My dad though, if it hadn't been for me insisting on looking after him, he'd have fallen apart - I didn't want that for Leah.
"You know she likes to have that ice cream from the little shop down the road every Saturday?"
"I know, mum. I'll get her one every Saturday."
"And you know she needs to take those supplements from the chemist or she gets tired and sore?"
"Yes, the blue packet."
"And you know when she's pushing everyone furthest away, she just needs a hug?"
"And?" He smiled.
"And a gentle reminder that she's loved." We said in unison.
We laughed together, his eyes going more serious as he spoke his final words to me.
"I'm not frightened of what happens when I leave here, you know?"
"No?" I whispered.
"No. I know you'll still be there."
"I'll always be here." I smiled.
"And I'll always be your favourite." He smirked.
"You're all my favourites." I chuckled.
"I love you, mum."
"I love you too, to the stars and back."
Finn came in next, Theo giving him a reassuring pat on the back as they passed one another. He placed himself on the same chair Theo had been sitting on, and I knew what memory he would want to recall.
Flashback:
"Who is that at this time?" Leah croaked.
I fumbled around for my phone, not being surprised when I saw who was calling.
"It's Finn." I sighed.
"Not again." Leah shook her head.
This had been a recurring theme; Finn would promise that he wasn't going to do the same thing again, but the following Saturday night we would get that same phone call.
"Finn, what's wrong?"
"I need a lift - don't start please - I just - I need a lift - can you bring me home. Home home."
"Yes, I'll come get you now."
I didn't even need to ask where he would be, I knew he'd be outside the pub that was around the corner from the gay bar. Pretending that he hadn't been in there. To be truthful, Leah and I had known for a while, being contacted by an old friend from the media to let us know a paper was planning on running with a story of Finn kissing a man on the dance floor of that very bar. We shut the story down, managing to stop them from printing it before he found out; we never broached it with him though, just patiently waited for him to find his moment.
"He's coming here, Le."
"Maybe he'll tell us tonight."
"Maybe. I won't be long."
When I got there, Finn got into the car and instead of his usual conversation about his night, consisting of made up stories about drinking pints with the lads, he sat silently staring out the window. He was never rude, or a troublesome drunk, just one that was struggling to hide a secret that was consuming his every thought.
"Is mum up?" He asked as we pulled up.
"Probably, I'd say she's making you food as we speak." I laughed.
"Okay, good. I need to talk to you both." He sighed.
It's happening. I'm so proud of him.
As I thought, Leah was just plating up food for Finn as we got inside, a bottle of water already sat at the table for him.
"Good night?" She smiled, kissing him on the cheek.
"Yeah - was alright."
I gave Leah the eyes, watching as she internally braved herself for what we both knew was coming.
"I'm sorry. I know I keep saying I won't keep getting in these states." He sighed.
"That's what we're here for." Leah and I said at the same time.
"I'm gay." He blurted out.
"Me too." I chuckled.
"Me three." Leah nodded.
"What - so it's fine? You guys aren't - I don't know - disappointed?"
"Why would we ever be disappointed?" Leah said softly.
"I don't know, I guess I just thought you might be. Now I'm actually saying it to you - I don't know why I thought that."
"Logic and fear are so far apart, Finn." I wrapped my arm around his shoulder.
"Exactly. We know now, and even if you'd never told us and just brought a man home, that would've been okay too." Leah added.
"Well, actually, there is someone."
— — — —
"Harry was so convinced that you two wouldn't like him." Finn chuckled.
"And look at you two now, finally engaged."
I knew that would cause a moment of realisation for Finn - realisation that I wouldn't be at his wedding. It might've appeared cruel to remind him of that in this moment, but I knew it would give him the opportunity to not regret that we hadn't spoken about my absence.
"You'll be there, mum. In my heart - you'll be there the whole day. You'll be in my head when I'm getting ready, in my heart when I say my vows. When I have that dance with mum, we'll both think of you the entire time."
His tear landed on my hand.
"I've written you a letter to open on your wedding day. Promise me you won't open it until then?" I whispered.
"I promise, mum. I promise."
"That's my boy." I smiled.
"I love you, mum."
"I love you too, my little warrior."
Next came our final child, the one that we hadn't really expected, and the one that helped Leah and I find each other again. He sat on the edge of my bed, placing a kiss onto my forehead.
"Did you watch?"
"Of course I did." I smiled.
"Well?"
"You were incredible. Reminded me a lot of that - what was their name - that really good singer that was out years ago?"
"Alex Ryan-Williamson?" He giggled.
"That's the one."
"Thanks. That's the brand I was going for."
He'd first picked up his guitar when he was just four years old. By the time he was seven we knew what he was going to do with his life, even if he didn't.
I'll never be as successful as you though.
That's what he told us when he had his first number one; still grounded enough to not let fame get to his head.
Looks like you will be more successful than me after all.
That's what I told him when he won his 18th Brit award, stealing the record from me - something I was happy to pass down to him.
"Tell me that story again - the one about how I got my name. It's my favourite."
"Just another day your mum had me wrapped around her little finger."
Flashback:
It took four days for us to find a name for him, I wanted an Irish name, but Leah was determined that we would balance out the Irish-Englishness of our household. After numerous friendly debates, we decided on a letter - B.
"Brendan?"
"No, that's Irish!" Leah rolled her eyes.
"Ben?"
"Too mainstream.
"How about Blake?"
"Nah. Not feeling it."
"Brandon?"
"You've literally changed one letter from Brendan, Al." She chuckled.
"At least I'm coming up with ideas!"
"Bobby." She smiled, giving me puppy eyes.
"Bobby? What has Bobby - Bobby fucking Moore." I rolled my eyes.
"It's cute. And if this one decides to represent us on the men's side of football - maybe he'll be like a mini Bobby Moore."
"I'm not sure. I'm not saying no! But I'm unconvinced. I haven't seen that name anywhere for years, Le. It might be a bit old fashioned."
"Okay, you can think about it for - like - 24 hours."
Over the next 24 hours, I couldn't escape the name Bobby. It was written on paper that hung from the fridge, my albums had been rearranged so that the first letter of each spelt out Bobby, it was even etched into the dirt on the windscreen of my car.
Of course, Leah pledged her innocence, saying that I was simply seeing how not old fashioned that name was now; because it was everywhere.
— — — —
"What do you think I should've been called?"
"Now? Bobby. I like it. I love it. It was just another instance of her being right. As usual." I chuckled.
"My first name isn't important to me." He smiled.
"No."
"What is?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"My two last names. Ryan-Williamson. A reminder every time they announce my name, that without my parents I would never have had this life."
"That's a smart outlook." I laughed.
"Thanks. Someone really cool told me that once."
"I'm proud of you, so proud I could burst."
"I'll make sure you always are, mum. I love you."
"I love you, Bobby." I smiled.
As he left room, I knew the next goodbye would be the hardest.
My Leah.