His Mum had been sick for a while, on and off, in and out of hospital, back and forth between Harbour Island and Nassau. Even a stint in Miami. Wesley was never told what exactly the matter was. “Mummy’s sick, don’t bother her,” Living between other peoples homes, cousins, Aunt’s, step dad’s, and on and off for many years with us. Carrying his stuff around in a black plastic bin liner.
Just after his 13th birthday Lynne went into hospital. Wesley travelled by himself back to Nassau, called there by a step dad or an Aunt, he can’t really remember. He was taken to the hospital. He went in alone, to sit beside his Mum. “I love you. Be a good boy, be a big strong boy,” he remembers her saying.
Wesley still did not understand his mother was dying. He had no idea breast cancer was stealing her life away.
The rest of the family stayed with Lynne. Wesley was sent back to school, oblivious, until a teacher pulled him out of class, and told him his mother was dead. Just like that. No frills.
I have written before about Lynne’s funeral, and about Wesley turning up afterwards, a lost child in need of a home. And most Octobers I train and ride in a 100 mile bike race, to raise money and awareness for breast cancer here in The Bahamas. But more importantly so that Wesley and I, and our family, remember Lynne.
This year, overwhelmed by building a new business, I just did not have any spare hours to train. So I am posting this in her memory, in the hope that it might just prompt more awareness, especially in the many out islands of the Bahamas where so little information is available.
Check ups are crucial.
Lynne would be proud though. Wesley is all the things she hoped he would be.
And much more.