This is probably the hardest the thing anyone ever had to do. This is the final blog on Rhiannon's page. So many people have asked me to keep her Bebo active so that you can come and visit her whenever you want to. She would like that a lot.

She was so ill and so brave, I wish you could all have seen her immense bravery and courage. This illness never stopped her. Right up to the very end, even though her pain was enormous, she did what she wanted to do, and typical of her, nothing and no one was going to stand in her way.

I am so honoured to have been her mother. I was proud of her every day of her life. I am proud of her in her death too.

She died as she lived, with the people around her that she loved, and it was a peaceful passing. She let go with dignity.

The day after we brought her home for the final time, the house was buzzing. Yet another party!!! I think the street got used to them in the end. Certainly I have heard from everyone that she threw the best gaffs ever and she wanted a big party to celebrate her passing. She made me promise to hold a party every year for her. So I guess you're all invited!

I am in awe of my beautiful girl. So many loved her, and why not, she was a loveable person. But more than that, she would go out of her way to fight for her friends and fight for the truth, no matter how much trouble it got her into. She always made me promise to be honest with her and I was. She knew from the beginning of this, that the odds were stacked against her and instead of saying "ok", she said " no way! I'm going to fight it". And fight it she did, right to the very end. She was still planning what she was going to do next year, even though a part of her knew that that wasn't going to happen.

When I came on to her page here and saw how all of you are still sending her that love, it made me cry, but, you know, it makes me so happy. This woman wasted not a moment of her time.

Thank you all for your love and for your support, and know that while you all remember, she is not gone.

With love, her mum,

Barbara

I havn't blogged it in so long. My reason being I was so sick for far too long a time. I dunno what happened in June? There was a graduation I think. I'm seeing lots of tears in a tiny church with an awful soundtrack. Then there was definitely a pub. Next thing I know, people were running around like headless chickens gabbling about some quiz or test or something and then they stopped and I think I mostly was just a little ball of sickness and puking on the sofa and moaning and nasty injections and no being able to keep things down and even feeling sick when I was out. It's just a haze. Then I stopped taking injections and I arrived at oxegen becase I had a ticket and a wheelchair and I was not missing the lineup and that Friday I arrived, I stopped puking, even though that Friday in punchestown was one of the most fucking awful things in my life, and was able to eat a little bit again. And the whole weekend was SHIT. It fucking pissed rain and I was this skeleton who couldn't walk with this angel behind me screaming at men every so often "Oi! You sober enough for you to help me get this chir and it's contents to point X over there? The ground is to rough/wet/muddy/bumpy/sinky/packed for us to get through!" And if the man could get over to us, without falling on his snot and drowning in a sinkhole of mud he could usually get us to point X. So I fed and tried desperately to booze the angel all weekend. But the angel said "nono! no beer for me." Even though I was like "fuck it, they have bacardi tent and serve my cocktail of choice,so think I'll take advantage of this. All the time there seemed to be a chorus of "Five euro for a fucking hotdog!? Go Fuck yourself!" The angel took me to my field every night and carried me on her back to the fancy lavatories up the stairs where there was mirrors and carpet with ceramic bowls, wooden seats, handles, hot and cold running water and soap! Then up a grassy slope to my tent where she took off my booties and taged my weet.There was many musics there but many monsters.
Then Im home and screaming with the pains. Cant eat, cant speak, cant breathe, cant move. Could only scream and even the pills wouldn't stop me and my dripping, salty head so I'm charioted to the infirmary where they throw morphine down my throat. Then I had tea and a cheese sandwich and then I threw them up but it was worth it. Then I decided to call everyone I knew only my phone was lost at the poxegen so I could only use mums phone and she had not many numbers. So I got bored and decided to pee in a jar for them. Then it was real late and I was thinking about big fruits being sailing vessels for the next three days at home in bed, drinking nasty tea and burning golden stuff. The burning was brandy. I take it still 3 times aday but there's manuka and aloevera in there too. Then there was much sleeps and many eatings. Then there was a dream when I was awake in a circle and mind switched on and saw me and didn't stop and I ate more and more and got thinner and thinner and never slept because my mind wouldnt stop and I talked until my voice went and my eyes closed andthen it was light and I talked some more except for when I was eating... sometimes while I was eating and I went everywhere and didn't stop. They waved fingers at me and said- blood transfusion for you! Haemoglobin all gone! Then the night before I stopped. They had two bags of blood for me, but then they looked again and gave me three.
Then I slept for a week. Then found I was a wind driven flame on a clothes line across mountains hurling my smoke ahead. Now I still sleep and still never stop. I have a little pug called Hercule and he is my fatty woof. And there's too much to write really so I won't.

Yes I did. I had pie and custard for breakfast and I puked it up. What a bloody waste? My fishie died. I'm quite upset really. He was a good fish, dumb as fuck but a fine pet all the same. I blame my mother. She was meant to be looking after him and he DIED!!! I was a fine fish mother...
My cousins were over last week from California. I took them shoe shopping in Dundrum. I dunno about shoe shopping. I preffer shopping for shirts and underwear,but I ended up buying me shoes anyway. Actually, I think I bought more than anyone else on the bloody trip. I think it's the wheelchairs fault. It's easier to spend money sitting down than standing up.
We took them to the Portehouse too because they wanted to drink lots of Irish beer.. I found this rather bizarre as they brew their own beer. It was really weird actually because they drank really slowly and one of them still ended up falling all over the place drunk. They were only drinking beer and not very much at that. I was smart though. I ordered this creamy pleasure thing. It was icecream with kahlua, baileys and butterscotch mickey finns. Very yummy.
I had this mad goo for a mint cornetto yesterday. I had to make mmother pull over so as I could run into statoil and get one.
Right. I'm off to eat quiche. Bloody starving here.