There are people in life who are simply unforgettable not because of what they have, but because of who they are. For me, my mum was one of those people. She was the kind of person who gave her whole heart to everything: to her family, to her friends, to the life she built. She was a fighter, a carer, a laugher, a listener and most of all, a mother.
This is a story about her. About the journey we shared as a family. About love, loss, resilience and the legacy she’s left behind that we now carry forward with us.
Mum grew up surrounded by friends, music, mischief and memories that stayed with her for life. She was always someone people wanted to be around; she had that energy. That warmth. That spark.
She and her sister Bridget were as close as siblings come. Growing up together, they were inseparable. Whether it be snitching on each other, dancing the night away uptown, or just talking about life long into the night, their bond was something special. That closeness stayed with them right through adulthood through the good times and the incredibly hard ones. Bridget wasn’t just her sister; she was her best friend.
Mum carried that same love and loyalty into everything she did. She built a life full of genuine connections, always surrounded by people who loved her and for good reason.
It was a hard reality to face when everyone found out Mum had multiple sclerosis. MS is a cruel, unpredictable disease. At the time, Mum, Dad, Family & friends didn’t really understand what it meant. It was scary, uncertain, and completely overwhelming.
But if you knew my mum, you’d know she didn’t let anything, and I mean anything defines her.
Yes, she had MS. But she also had us. Me, my sister Abbie, Bridget, Dad and all her family and friends and a fierce sense of purpose as our mum. She decided early on that this illness wouldn’t control her life or ours. She never asked for pity. She never let her struggles overshadow our joy. And she never stopped showing up for us, even when her body made it harder and harder to do so.
Growing up with a parent who has a progressive illness teaches you things most kids don’t learn so early empathy, resilience, awareness. But even as MS took its toll, Mum made our childhood feel full of life, not limits.
There were tough days, of course. Days when her energy wasn’t there. Days when her body wouldn’t do what she needed it to. Days when we knew, even without her saying it, that things were getting worse.
But somehow, through it all, she made sure we never felt held back. We went on holidays. We played sports. We had birthday parties, school trips, sleepovers. We lived a life that felt full, because she made it full.
And every time MS tried to dim her light, she found a new way to shine through it.
She was still our rock. Still our biggest supporter. Still the one who made everything feel like home.
As the years went on, MS became harder to fight. It was relentless. Slowly, it stripped away parts of her independence. Walking became harder. Being able to lift things and do things she was so used to doing.
But again, her spirit never changed.
She still found joy in the little things, seeing if Lewis won at football, a visit from friends, a cuddle with Abbie, hearing us laugh in the other room. She still wanted to know everything about our lives, no matter how much she was struggling with her own.
The truth is that my mum went through more pain and frustration than most people will ever understand but she wore her bravery so quietly. So gently. So powerfully all the time.
She fought every single day to stay present for us. And she did it with grace, love, and an unbelievable amount of strength.
Losing her has left a hole that will never be filled. There’s no dressing that up. Grief is sharp. It’s heavy. It comes in waves. And for me, losing not just a mum, but a best friend, a teacher, and a daily source of strength that pain is something I’ll carry forever and will never let go off.
But grief also fuels something else. A fire to do something. To honour her. To make sure her story, her fight, and her love don’t just fade away into memory.
That’s why we started a small growing campaign called MoveForMS.
It’s not just a campaign. It’s a tribute. A movement for everyone affected by MS and especially for the woman who gave us everything she had.
MOVEFORMS were born from heartbreak, but it’s powered by hope.
A team of us friends, family, and supporters have come together to raise awareness and funds for MSTogether, a charity doing incredible work to support those living with multiple sclerosis. We’ve set out to raise £10,000, and in just the first 16 days, we’ve already smashed through £6,000.
Every donation, every share, every run we complete it’s all part of a bigger picture. A mission to shine a light on MS, to fund support for families like ours, and to show the kind of resilience my mum lived by every single day.
We’re training to take on the Robin Hood Half Marathon, and trust me there are sore legs, sweaty heads, and plenty of group chat drama to prove it. But there’s also so much love driving this forward. So much purpose. So much of her in everything we do.
What makes this even more special is that it’s already rippling beyond our little circle. People in our local community have reached out. Old friends of Mum’s have donated. Strangers have sent messages saying her story has touched them, and they want to create a fundraiser with us in the future. This isn’t just about us anymore, it’s something bigger.
Her legacy is living on, not just in our memories, but in action. In motion. In movement.
We always said Mum was the rock in our lives and she still is. She’s the reason we’re doing this. She’s the voice in our heads when training gets hard. She’s the name we carry on our backs when we run. And she’ll always be the heart of this campaign.
If you’ve read this far, thank you. It means everything to be able to share even a small part of who she was.
Mum taught us to fight. To love deeply. To give more than we take. She taught us that strength doesn’t always look loud, sometimes it’s quiet, steady, and full of heart.
And now, it’s our turn to carry that forward.
So, to anyone reading whether you’re a friend, a supporter, or someone who’s just found this by chance we hope you’ll follow along, donate if you can, and help us spread the message.
Because this isn’t just a run. It’s a promise. A legacy. A movement.
For Mum. For MS. For everyone who needs a little more strength.
