The Journal of a Mother Whose Daughter Had a Brain Tumour Diagnosis to Death: 951 days Age 19 18.2.97 - 24.2016 A Little more About Me It is 2014 as I write this, and my grandmother is 93 years old. She is amazing. She lives just down the road from us, and I see her almost every day. My mother is her sole carer. Grandma lives in a sizable flat with a balcony. I remember her taking me to the pond opposite her flat and putting two newts into a used punnet that had once held strawberries. I wasn’t allowed pet fish, so this was my alternative. I named them Danny and Sandy, after my favourite film at the time, Grease. Eventually, when Danny and Sandy had grown, I released them into our neighbour’s garden pond, thinking they would become frogs. Around this time, my cat Thomas was becoming ill. He was becoming incontinent and was being sick a lot. We took him to the vet, who told us that the kindest thing to do would be to put him to sleep. I remember coming home from primary school with my brother and sitting down with my parents. They explained that Thomas was getting old and ill. As they told us that Thomas was no longer here, my Mum broke down in tears. I cried so much and hugged Thomas’s brother, Biffa. A few months later, Biffa started to deteriorate. We thought he might be dying of a broken heart after losing Thomas. He became so ill that we had to have him put to sleep too. I think this was my first experience of heartbreak. I was young, but losing them both was devastating. It was my first real understanding of how much you can love an animal and how painful it is to say goodbye. Charlotte charlottesbag.org/