Olivia Prosser

"Olivia, that man behind you, he's eating raw shallots."

"No Mum, he can't be."

"He is. He's scooping them out of a plastic carrier bag and chomping on them like they're a dry nut mix. Don't look now though, he's watching us."

"I don't think so Mum, I don't think a person can eat raw shallots."

Mum smiles happily and contentedly sits back in her wheelchair. "I'm telling you darling, he's eating them as we speak."

Within seconds, she falls asleep. These small brief snippets of conversation are now entirely normal, and sometimes just don't make any sense. I remember feeling frustrated that we don't have longer, that I can't discuss normal topics; my day, the weather, the weekend, or how the cake tastes. Normal conversation that I've taken for granted. Mum sleeps, and I sit quietly. I eat half of her cake as well as my own; I'm not sure she'll notice. 

As I'm eating, I can't help but smell a strong smell of wafting onion. I look round and to my surprise, I see a rather portly gentleman eating shallots out of a plastic carrier bag. 

Mum half wakes, eyes closed, smiles, and says "I told you so. And that's my cake."

My Mum was hard working, determined, gentle, brave, short tempered, kind, strict, generous, loving, empathetic, thoughtful, quite tardy overall and very impatient - but above all, a fantastic story teller, counsellor, listener, lover of life, problem solver and ultimately a force to be reckoned with. The loudest laugh, the biggest smile, and the best stories. She was a wife, a sister, an auntie, a mentor and a friend to so many. Her only fear was leaving me behind, and how right she was, I've never been on time since! 

Having lost my Mum in my early twenties, running quickly became a means of escape, and a way of gaining back control and order during a very chaotic and difficult time. Time seemed incredibly ominous and indefinite during those early days, and yet pavement by pavement, through bush and borough, running just soaked it right up and gave me a sense of purpose. I always said I would never be able to run a full marathon - and the only way I could ever fathom completing one would be for Myton Hospice in her memory, in recognition of the outstanding care given to Mum during her last weeks, and to us as a family. I want to bring more awareness to end of life care, and to ensure that other families are privileged enough to receive the same care that we had; the same dignity in death, with an open view outside onto the garden, just the same as she did. 

Having had many conversations with Mum, she strongly wished to not pass away in a hospital, (Walsgrave was mentioned multiple times by name!) and ideally with a view of the garden, so she could hear the birds singing. Thanks to Myton, both of these wishes were granted, and I could not be more grateful. On her last day I simply opened the doors and out she went; and I could not imagine a more peaceful passing for my lovely Mum. I want to ensure as many people have the same access to such a service, forever. She said once I would never run a marathon, I need to prove that her girl can! 

Its been a while since she's been around, but as next year marks a decade since I saw her last, together, we take on our second biggest challenge. The first, and most difficult, was saying goodbye, of which nothing could ever compare.  And the second? We take on the London Marathon for those who can't, for those who can no longer move their bodies how they used to, to celebrate simply having health and the joy of being alive when it is taken away from so many without question, without permission, and most importantly to raise awareness of how important end of life care is, and how Myton Hospice provided for my Mum at the end of what I would say was one heck of a wonderful life. 

The Myton Hospices provides compassionate care and support for people with life-limiting illnesses and their families, both in its Inpatient Units and out in the community.

It costs over £15 million every year to provide its services free of charge to patients and their loved ones.

As a charity, with less than 20% of its funding coming from the NHS, Myton must raise more than £12 million this year.

More people than ever need a Hospice Bed and, tragically, too many people on the waiting list for a bed at Myton will die before they can access one.

As the only provider of Hospice Inpatient Beds in Coventry and Warwickshire, the demand is huge.

That is why I am taking on the London Marathon. I want to help raise the money Myton needs to be there for everyone who needs its care, now and in the future.

To reach this year’s £150,000 target, Myton relies entirely on sponsorship from people like you. Here is what your support could help fund:

• £94 could fund one adult counselling session
• £360 could fund Myton at Home for one patient for one day
• £450 could fund an Inpatient bed for one day
• £545 could fund the required drugs for one patient

Please donate today and help make every mile count for people who need The Myton Hospices most.