In 2004 my mother asked us to donate to the Macmillan team in lieu of a present. It is ironical that she then developed and survived endometrial cancer in 2006 and was diagnosed with and died from ovarian cancer in 2012, especially as the Macmillan team supported us to keep her in the home she loved right to the end. The story tells of the effects of both cancers on Mum and the rest of the family. Naturally there were sad times and some excruciatingly painful and stressful times but there were also some funny and touching moments. Audrey, Mum's sister was coincidentally diagnosed with oesophageal cancer and at one point they were in different wards at opposite ends of the same hospital. The day we were told of Mum’s diagnosis, we wheeled her down to sit with Audrey and they held hands and hugged, one in a wheelchair and the other hooked up to all kinds of machinery. Audrey died thirteen days after mum. There is no doubt that my mother loved her family – she had nearly ninety children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and great, great grandchildren, both biological and adopted; whilst the story is written from my perspective, I wasn't the only one to suffer and it could easily have been written by thirty or forty other people. When I found out mum had a terminal illness I made up my mind to take her back to her home, which is the only place she wanted to be; some people thought I was mad but we had a dedicated team of family and were lucky to be further supported by her GP, the DN’s and Macmillan team. I organised weekly rotas to ensure 24 hour care: The book tells how we coped with this and of my panic the day I found out the Macmillan support team didn’t have any sitters for the following week. It also portrays the “normal” things we did along as we rode our six year emotional roller coaster, such as going on holidays and dealing with other family crises. The last twelve months before her death were intolerable. The last six months a nightmare, and the ten weeks between diagnosis and her passing were hell on earth but we had some laughs, we cried and we sang songs. A few weeks before she died, as my daughter entered the room Mum was playing a game with my younger grandchildren, throwing the tiny purple chick to each of them in turn and giggling along with them, its tail flashing as though it too was enjoying the fun. I initially wrote the book to help me deal with my own grief, stress and feelings of guilt that I was glad she had finally let go of her tenuous hold on life and so was out of pain and distress but I decided to have it published for three reasons (a) to raise awareness of the signs and symptoms of ovarian cancer and to encourage anyone experiencing those symptoms to speak to their GP (b) to give hope and support others who may be going through the same experience and to make them realise it is not all doom and gloom and that it is OK to grieve – even if that grief begins years prior to death to advise people that there is help to deal with the physical, emotional and practical side of dealing with cancer and to encourage them to ask for that help if necessary