Brave mother's inspirational last letter

Denise Russell's moving letter to her children Maddison and Max included a wish to raise money for the Cancer Treatment and Research Trust and the Hospice of St Francis.

Now her husband Stephen, and a group of friends are organising a fundraiser to fulfil that wish.

The Disco Dee'va event will be held on Friday, April 20 at The Colosseum, Watford. The 1970's night will start at 9pm. Tickets are £10 each.

Fancy dress is optional.

To purchase tickets, telephone 07886 612 684 or 01442 390619, or email nehpets.llessur@ntlworld.com.

Anyone wishing to make a donation can send cheques made out to Disco Dee'va, to the Watford Observer, Observer House, Caxton Way, Watford Business Park, WD18 8RJ.

Read Denise's moving letter below.

Dear Max and Maddison,

I am so sorry I shouted at you both today. You didn't deserve it. You didn't do anything wrong except raise your little voices and run round the house being the lively children I want you to be. I didn't mean to snap at you. Forgive me.

Just lately, I can't help my short temper. I've slowly changed over the last few months. I'm not the mummy I used to be. I look different and I feel different.

You see, little darlings I am ill. So very ill that I am not going to be with you for very long. I am going to die before you both. I've told you that already, but you are too young to truly understand what dying really means.

My illness is called cancer. It started in my skin as malignant melanoma and spread to other parts of the body. The doctors cannot make me better but they are giving me lots of tablets to try and help me. It's those tablets that affect my mood and make me a bit grumpy. And I'm also very, very tired.

I do keep smiling for you both but its not easy being so ill. How I wish you could both climb on my lap for a story and a long cuddle. How I long to take you in my arms when you get out the bath. How I yearn to drive you to the park on your bikes or wait at the school gates to pick you up at the end of the day.

But I can't do these things anymore. I cant be the mummy I want to be and of course that makes me sad.

Sometimes when I am sitting on the settee at home I look back and remember all the lovely times we had together as a family before I got illI look at the photo of daddy and me on our wedding day eight years ago. I look at the pictures of you both as babies and I remember how happy I was to be a mum. Having a family, being a mummy means the world to me . We have not done big things with our lives, instead, we've enjoyed the simple pleasures. Walks in the park, picnics, birthday parties and all those everyday moments that fill my heart with joy. We've been happy. Content. And I've always felt lucky in life. I loved being a full time mum to you both and I really felt I had it all . . . a happy marriage to daddy, a lovely home, a boy, a girl, and so much to look forward to in life.

But all that changed in May 2005 when we got back from our family holiday seeing granddad in Tenerife We'd had a wonderful time together and granddad was so pleased to see you both.

It was the first time he had ever set eyes on Maddison. I remember how you ran into his arms at the hotel and made him so very happy. We all had a fabulous time together. Little did I know what was around the corner.

But it was on that holiday that I found a lump in my back and tummy. It turned a strange black colour . I went to the hospital when I got home. They did tests and kept calling me back And every time I returned they did more tests. I had a body scan, and a head scan. I was worried. So was daddy. Five years earlier, I'd had a mole removed from my head. Over the year the hospital just kept an eye on my moles, and as far as I was concerned I did not believe I had anything to worry about. I was so wrong.

Bad news was coming my way. Terrible news. But I did not cry when I sat down with daddy and was told by the doctors that I had tumours in my liver and my head and that I could not be cured . I did not weep when they spelt out that with treatment I may just have one year to live. But I began to sob when they firmly said I could not be left on my own for even one minute incase I had a blackout or seizure. That hurt more than anything. It meant I could not be the mum I wanted to be, the mum who was used to running a home cooking, cleaning, taking you out and about, driving you to see friends or family. For some reason having my independence snatched from me hurt more than anything.

But I hid my tears and daddy was there for me, and boldly we decided we had to tell you both the truth. Maddison was too young to understand, but we sat you down Max and told you that mummy was going to die. You listened hard as I explained that some people die young, some are very old, some get swept out to sea, and others get ill. "I will die before you," I said. "But even when I am gone from sight I would always be your mummy and I would still be able to see if you were a naughty boy."

Daddy gave up his job working full time so he could keep an eye on me and grandma started coming round to help me look after you both. We broke the news to everyone and all our friends kept calling, flowers arrived, everyone showed they cared. I was thankful to them all. But I was not ready to sit back in my pink pyjamas and wait for my final day.

"I'm not dead yet" I told them all. And I decided that I was going to go out in the way I had always led my life - living it to the full, keeping a smile on my face and going through this together.

Remember how we all got our hair cut in the kitchen. My hairdresser gave you both little haircuts then it was my turn. My dark red hair that I had started losing in clumps from my radiation treatment was all going to come off. And you both watched it happen . "You and dad have got the same haircut now,"Max joked . "And although there were tears in my eyes, I smiled at the new me. The bald, bright eyed , new mummy.

You both went to stay with grandma for a night when daddy and me decided to have a giant party at home,.I sent out the - "Lets face the music and dance" invitations, 70 friends came, and I danced on the sofa till 3am and sang "I will survive."

Friends kept crying , breaking down in the weeks that followed, but I have made sure you do not see me cry. I want you to think of me as a mum who refusd to lie down and give up. I want you to remember me as a mum who kept going .

In September , your grandma & Grandad were so kind when they treated us all to a long weekend to Euro Disney in Paris. I was exhausted from my chemotherapy treatment , but determined to share this precious time. I needed a wheelchair for those few days and I hated not being able to walk or go on the rides with you and daddy. That was tough. I remember standing in the pouring rain, watching your faces wide eyed and innocent as the parade passed by . I knew I could never do that again with you. It broke my heart and daddy's.

Your daddy has had to go through so much as well as me. He's preparing to live without me around and he's learning to cook, and do everything for you . I've told him in the future that he must find a new love in his life. I want that for him one day. He's leaning on family and good friends . I thank them for being there. But its also so very hard letting everyone in, and letting go of you myself.

I have already started to step back just a little bit from you both each day. You used to both call "mummy" in the mornings and I'd answer your cries, get you both ready, make your breakfasts, brush your hair, get you bathed. Now you call for daddy. It makes me sad, but that's the way it has to be.

I used to give you a long cuddle at bedtime now, its just a quick kiss . I don't want to hold onto you both too long . It hurts too much. And instead of me baking cakes with you in the kitchen, its now grandma.

But I am proud of you both for adjusting so well. Sometimes little Maddison gets my crutches when my legs are weak, sometimes you both wave goodbye to me and go out for a few hours with our friends Paul and Corrine? just to give daddy and me a break. Sometimes you both try and look after me in your own sweet ways.

And one day I hope you will be proud of me. Before I die I want so very much to raise thousands of pound for Melanoma Cancer. I've set myself a target of £10,000. I've started making and selling bandannas and daddy and me have organised a big fund raising disco in October . So many friends and family are going to be there. I want them all to have a good time, and most of all I want them one day to look back and remember Denise Russell as being an inspiration, not somebody who just gave up and waited to die.

I really do hope that I raise £10,000 and more. And that my fundraising will help save somebody elses life. I hope I make it to Christmas and I can watch Max open his much wanted Scaletrix set, and see Maddison excitedly open her scooter, I want to see your little faces, looking to the skies for father Christmas, I want to see you in the Christmas nativity at school and most of all I hope I defy the doctors diagnosis and watch you blow out the candles on your birthday cakes next year. But I cannot be sure I even have tomorrow.

Every day when I wake up it's a bonus. I don't have enough time to do everything I want to do in life but in the time I have I want to make the most of every moment we have together.

I was angry that I have been cheated of being your mummy but I have to accept that I wont be able to see you grow up, go to secondary school , have girlfriends/boyfriends, get married or have children of your own. I wont be there to advise you, guide you, take care of you.But I want you to know that all through your lives, whatever you do, whatever you achieve , make sure you live your dreams, be who you want to be, look after daddy and each other. And be like mummy and live life to the full .

Last week, I went and sat in the chill out room that daddy made me at the top of the garden. He made that space just for me, he took his paints and spent hours converting the brick shed into a special space where I can relax, and find peace. He put candles in the room, cushions and created such a tranquil place just for me. In the corner of that room I have two satin boxes. A gold one for Maddison. A black one for Max. They are going to be your memory boxes and I am going to fill them with little things that help you remember me a lock of my hair, a photo, some special words. If I could, I would put all the love in the world in those boxes. That's what I feel for you. Always remember that. Although I may not be around tomorrow I will always be your mummy and I will love you forever.