Lottie Kennedy pays tribute to her dad Russell, and offers her advice to anyone who’s grieving.
By Jo Porter
Lottie and her dad, May 2021
“I hope that three years on from losing my dad, I can be that inspiration and help for even one other person who needs it during these hard times.”
Lottie
My dad Russell was the most caring, intelligent man who would do anything for his two girls. He was a family man and true role model, deeply loved by us all. He had an incredible career in education, helping shape young people’s lives. And at weekends, he would take us to various sports activities while he sat in his car working.
A shock diagnosis
Russell with his daughters Lottie and Lily
When he was diagnosed with a grade 4 glioblastoma in September 2020, it turned our world upside down. He was given six to 24 months to live, and I couldn’t comprehend that he wasn’t going to be in my life. It’s not something you think about. Then one day you wake up, and your life changes forever.
He first noticed something was wrong a month earlier when he couldn’t see properly. He noticed a loss of peripheral vision and went to get checked out. The eye specialist referred him straight to the hospital for scans, which showed a mass on the brain. It was a scary and unknown time, waiting for test results which were absolutely life-altering. They showed the mass was a brain tumour.
Treatment included radiotherapy and chemotherapy. Watching Dad battle through was hard, but he was so inspirational throughout that time. When taking his tablets, he would sit in his car again, on his own on the drive, and blast out Calvin Harris and David Guetta songs through the speakers.
Finding Support
I was 17 and in Year 13, completing my A-levels when Dad was diagnosed. I didn’t know anyone with a brain tumour. I didn’t know anything about this type of cancer or how life-threatening it is. I felt isolated and that no one else could truly understand my feelings.
But my family found out about The Brain Tumour Charity and I got great support by reading and listening to other young people’s stories. I hope that five years on, I can be that inspiration and help even one other person who needs it during these hard times.
I wanted to raise money for the charity because it helps raise awareness of this cancer, awareness of the underfunding and gets people talking. So, throughout May 2021 I walked 15,000 steps every day and raised £3,000.
Talking about our fears
Watching your parent change through treatment is something I don’t think you can be prepared for. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to witness. Seeing the strongest man you’ll ever know in pain was the most heart-breaking thing. But he always put on a brave face for us, trying to protect us from this nightmare.
The four of us were there for every high and every low, and we had open discussions about what could happen. He never let us know he feared what the future held and instead put plans in place to keep us secure for when he wasn’t going to be there anymore. But my sister and I, 17 and 20 at the time, were encouraged to always talk about what we feared.
Dad saw me and my sister pass our driving tests and get our A-level results. He supported Lily as she studied hard for her degree and encouraged me to start university in September 2021 which he was so proud of.
I thought of taking a year out from university so I could be at home, but it was Dad who told me to go out there and start, and so I moved to London to take a fashion degree. Dad was my biggest cheerleader from hospital, calling me to ask how my first days were going and how I was finding university.
An alien time
Unfortunately, while Dad was in hospital he developed sepsis. It was an extremely difficult and scary time for my family, so I came home. Due to COVID measures we couldn’t visit him and had to stand outside his hospital window holding balloons and singing happy birthday through the windows. It was an alien time that looking back almost seems all like a dream. During this time, Dad wasn’t able to come home and spent his final months in hospital we could bring him home to be at peace.
Up until this point, Dad’s tumour had remained the same size, so we hoped he would come home and get better surrounded by his family. But in late October 2021, doctors told us that his tumour had grown, and that treatment wasn’t useful anymore. The next move was to bring Dad home to be at peace in last days with us in familiar surroundings.
I will never forget those last few days I got to spend with him. Dad wasn’t as verbal anymore and he couldn’t move out of the hospital bed in the living room, so we took turns having sleepovers downstairs to look after him.
During the last night I spent with my dad, I promised him that we were going to be okay and that I’d look after Mum and my sister, Lily. I don’t think I ever really comprehended what was about to happen.
In his last moments, we let our dad know that we were okay for him to go. You never think you’ll be in the place to say to your dad, come on we’re going to be okay. But all we wanted was for him to finally be at peace. I feel like getting to that point almost helped us.
Dad passed away on – 5 November 2021 – surrounded by family and friends after a 14-month battle. He was 57. That year showed me how strong my dad really was and that he never gave up and kept fighting until the end.
I can picture exactly what happened that day – the room, the people in it. I didn’t move from the seat next to him all day. The thought of me being so strong for my dad is crazy but it does get to that point where you almost feel like you’re the parent and you have to say. ‘we’ll be ok, we’ve got this.’ We absolutely didn’t have it, but he didn’t have to know that at that time!
Making him proud
The weeks following his death seem like a fever dream, I can’t remember much at all. We were just surviving. However, one of the only things that both me and sister could focus on was university; it seemed to be the only thing that kept us feeling ‘normal’. So, as my dad always instilled in us, we carried on. We didn’t back out, we just kept going. Having my dad as my forever motivation is something I will cherish – to continue to make him proud.
The following summer my sister graduated. I’m sure he is so proud of her finishing her final year. I went back to university and carried on with the first year of my degree. It had many highs and lows as I felt like I had this dark cloud following me, which is sometimes just how grief feels.
While it’s ok to not be ok, I felt so much pressure to be like my peers, and I feared missing out on those amazing memories you make at university. But it’s ok to need time to heal and sometimes you need that time out.
In July 2024, after three years of studying, I graduated with a First Class degree. My hard work had paid off and I truly felt like I made my dad proud. I know how much he would’ve done to be there at both mine and Lily’s graduations, so instead, we brought a photo of him with us.
It’s the little things that help us feel like he’s still here. I think that whatever weird quirk you may have, keeping their spirit alive and talking about them is what you find most joy in, and it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else.
I started my master’s degree in September 2024 in Manchester, and now I am absolutely loving the new lease of life I feel in this city – not held down by other people’s preconceptions of ‘the girl whose dad died’ in uni.
There’s no right way to grieve
No one can tell you how grief will affect you and there is no right way to grieve. It’s something I am still facing to this day. It’s a rollercoaster and can hit you when you walk into a café and they are playing the song played at your dad’s funeral, or you see a father and daughter enjoying a meal together and just break down in tears.
No one can prepare you for losing a parent and no one can prepare you for the months and years that follow. Grief will always be a big part of my life, a cloud that follows me around. Sometimes it rains down hard and sometimes it drizzles.
But this cloud reminds me of the love I have for my dad and how much he loved me. I always know my dad is my biggest cheerleader, and now my mission in life is always motivated by the man I was lucky enough to call my dad.
You will have hope again
I hope I can inspire other young people going through the hardest time of their lives. It can feel so isolating, like no one can ever truly understand how you feel. But you are not alone and there are people who feel exactly how you feel.
I sometimes felt like I had to put on a brave face to friends and family as they would never have been able to comprehend what I was truly going through, and that’s okay, but just know in those times there are people who do know and who to talk to. Don’t ever bottle up your feelings!
I don’t think I’ll ever understand why my dad, and why our family, but hopefully, by raising awareness of brain tumours, we can give other families the time my family didn’t have.
It may take months, it may take years, but you will get to a point where you smile, laugh and have hope again. Live your life with their light inside of you and never give up.
I’m lucky enough to have something that motivates me to thrive in everything. I know my dad is standing by my side every step of the way. Myself, my mum, and my sister are now living our ‘new normal.’
Just over three years since losing our dad, we are learning to love again and finding the joy in life again and I’m SO proud of us!
Lottie
Support for coping with loss
If you’ve been affected by this story, you can find our bereavement resources below.
