Newtownabbey man's tribute to mum who died age 54 after stomach cancer shock

A Northern Ireland man has opened up about the pain of losing his mum to stomach cancer.

Jak Cleland’s mum Jeanette was diagnosed with the disease in early 2019, and on February 6 2020, she passed away after a brave but gruelling battle. The 54-year-old finished treatment in October 2020, and in December, the family celebrated as things seemed to be all-clear.

Little did they know that this would be their last Christmas together. On Christmas morning, Jak says his mum "was a strange colour", and a number of days later, they were dealt the most devastating blow - there was nothing more medics could do for Jeanette.

Jak, who is from Newtownabbey, said: "My mum was always the rock of our family. She had it hard at times, but she always persevered and made it through. It wasn’t always easy... sometimes it was incredibly hard, but she got through it. No matter what life threw her way, she kept going, always putting us first and making sure we never felt the weight she was carrying.

"She gave us everything she had. Her heart, her love, and her resilience. She made sure we had holidays, laughter, and a sense of normality despite the weight she carried on her shoulders. She was the glue that held it all together, and we never truly saw the depth of her sacrifice. And for that, we will always be grateful.

"When she met my stepdad, it wasn’t just a change in our family; it was a change in all of us. He became a father in every sense of the word. My mum and dad became an unbreakable team where laughter and love were the focus, and harder times would be dealt with together.

"Mum didn’t let much get her down. Even when she was diagnosed, she just shrugged and said, “We’ll see what happens.” She never let it change how she was with us. Even through treatment, even when she was really sick, she didn’t want us to carry any of it. Looking back, I wish she’d let us in a little more, but that was who she was... protecting us even when she was the one who needed looking after.

"She had this big laugh, the kind that filled the room. She hated lies. If you got caught in one, she couldn’t help you. And she was completely innocent in the best way. She didn’t always catch on to innuendos, and when we told her, she’d be mortified. She was just real."

Jak says his mum had "signs" long before she was diagnosed with stomach cancer. He said she was "brushed off" and that this "went on for months".

"The signs were there long before she was diagnosed. She had lost so much weight so quickly, but when she went to the doctor, she got brushed off, told she was drinking too much or not eating enough," he added.

"That went on for months. When she finally saw her regular doctor, it was different. They said she needed to go to the hospital because she had lost too much weight. And that’s when we found out. Stomach cancer. She would need a major operation and then faced the gruelling treatment as well.

"I still wonder, if they’d caught it sooner, would things have been different? Months of being dismissed. Maybe nothing would have changed. But maybe it would have. We’ll never know. What I do know is she was let down in those early stages... the signs were there.

"She finished her treatment In October 2019 and on the 9th of December had a check-up of which everything looked to be all clear. We celebrated. We thought that was it. We thought she’d made it through. But two weeks later, on Christmas morning she was a strange colour, almost jaundice looking, and she had to back into hospital on Christmas Day.

"Just after New Year, we were told there was nothing more they could do. Our last Christmas defined by a disease that doesn’t care what time of the year it is. On February 6th 2020, she was gone."

Jak said his mum made sure they never had to see the worst. She got their aunt’s husband to tell them she was terminal because she couldn’t face seeing them hurt. He says even though they all knew, her rule was simple - they weren’t going to talk about it. They were just going to ride the wave.

"I don’t think I really grasped it. Even when we were told, I was almost argumentative about it. I just kept thinking, why isn’t she fighting it again? Even if there’s a 1% chance, why isn’t she holding on? Now I get it. There wasn’t anything left to fight for the disease had its grip... and it wasn’t letting go.

"I just wish I had talked to her, not about fighting it again, but about how she felt. If she was scared. If she was at peace. I regret that. Me and my girlfriend were meant to go to Krakow the Monday of the week she passed. I was sitting in her room, my mum hadn’t really been awake for a few days, and my sister asked if we were still going. I said 'I don’t think so, I have to be here' but mum snapped awake, looked at me, the look of determination I have seen a million times and said 'make sure you go on that holiday. Do not be missing it because of me'.

"That was the last thing she ever said to me. I didn’t go, obviously. I had to be there. Everything after that was a blur, it was like the fastest yet slowest period of our lives."

Jak is speaking out in memory of his mum, to raise awareness for cancer, and to highlight the care their family received from Marie Curie.

"When Marie Curie came into our home, we all thought, how do they do this every day? They gave her dignity. They made sure she was comfortable. And they helped us, too. We had no idea what we were doing... what we should or shouldn’t be doing. But they guided us through it.

"When mum was still on her feet doing the usual mum things, they told her she shouldn’t be. Marie Curie knew. They knew everything. They were a quiet presence... always there, never intrusive, but always exactly where they needed to be. Without them, I don’t know how we would’ve coped.

"Mum was stubborn. She didn’t want to die in a hospital, and she didn’t want a hospital bed brought into the house. She said: 'I just want to be in my own house and bed when the time comes'. So that’s how it was. Marie Curie respected that. They respected her.

"I don’t know if I’ve dealt with the grief or if I’ve just buried it. Some days, I miss her so much it’s like a weight on my chest, but, like her, I guess I just get through it. Other days, I hear her in my head saying 'stop being stupid. You’ve got one life, one go with no re-runs... don’t waste it sitting around feeling sorry for yourself, spend an hour with it, deal with it, and move past it'. And I try to listen to that.

"That’s why I started the JCXVI clothing brand. It’s why I make clothing with purpose, so people can wear their strength and show they’ve been through something, which can hopefully help others. And that’s why I knew I had to do something for Marie Curie. They were there for my mum when it mattered.

"So I’ve created a special design. A butterfly. My mum’s first tattoo, the one me and my siblings now carry too. It’s on the front, and on the back, JCXVI which stands for the strength we share. This isn’t about making money. This is to give something back to Marie Curie. Because they never let her down.

"We all agree, Marie Curie were the best thing that happened in those final days. And if this design can give something back to them, then that’s exactly what I’ll do."

Marie Curie offers free Information & Support for people living with any terminal illness, and their families. Their Information and Support Line (0800 090 2309) is open 8am - 6pm Monday to Friday and 10am - 4pm Saturday and Sunday. Free support can also be accessed via an online chat service, at mariecurie.org.uk.

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