For the last two years, Mum walked hand in hand through life with breast cancer.

Diagnosed in August 2019, chemotherapy, surgery and radiotherapy quickly followed.

Despite covid, Liz fought her way into remission one year later, in August 2020.

At 65 years young, Mum began plotting her post-cancer and post-lockdown life.

After a pain in her arm inspired a trip to the physio, Liz was diagnosed (in April 21) with secondary breast cancer in her lungs.

Mum knew the drill. Intense chemo. Exhausted & frustrated, Liz fought on & her lungs began to heal.

The price? With a treatment once a week there was little time for her body to recover. Slowly, her quality of life began to decline.

Four months later, blurry vision & loss of basic motor skills landed Mum in A&E.

"You have multiple tumours in your brain. There is nothing more we can do", said the doctor.

Fuck.

Palliative care quickly stepped in to support Mum through her final weeks.

In the days that followed, cancer stole every piece of dignity Mum ever had.

One day she was walking & talking, the next bed-bound & silent. Her mind still sharp as a knife. Trapped in her own body.

Mum still smiled at our attempts to lighten the mood, as we muddled through her care.

Liz left us with her heart full of love, surrounded by fond memories of her nearest & dearest.

Thank you to everyone for your visits, stories, cards, meals, tissues, flowers, biscuits & support over the last years/weeks/days.

To my Dad, Andy. Mum’s rock. You've stood tall by her side as her husband, childhood friend, soulmate & full-time carer. No words will ever repay your unconditional love & support.

It's incredible how many people Liz has touched throughout her rich and joyful life.

Elizabeth Jane Woodcock

26.02.56 - 01.09.21