Goals to Gold. Lee Sandford

When I finally pulled up outside the hospice and jumped out of the car, I left the engine running and the door open. But Paul and Dad were waiting for me at the front door, and their faces said it all. I was too late.

      She was gone.

      I sank to my knees. I was sure I could feel my heart breaking in two inside my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I don’t remember exactly what happened next. It was like time stopped for a bit. I knew mum was ill, but I didn’t think she could just die without due warning. For a long time, I simply couldn’t get my head around it.

      The next few weeks were a blur. I drove back and forth between Sheffield and Basingstoke, supporting my family, helping to sort mum’s affairs out, having the funeral and trying to come to terms with it all. I needed to be there for my dad, who was obviously in pieces.

      There is one moment I remember quite clearly. I’d just got off the phone with Nigel, who was pressing me to tell him when I’d be getting back to Sheffield that day, when I turned on the radio. It must have been the morning of Sunday 31 August because it was the moment I first heard the news that Princess Diana had died. The first thing I thought was... now there are two angels in heaven. Somehow that helped.

      Mum’s death left a huge hole in my heart and I couldn’t forgive myself for not being there when she went; it haunted me.

      One day, I was driving back to Sheffield after spending a day with my dad in Basingstoke and suddenly I found I was crying so hard I had to pull over. The tears just wouldn’t stop flowing and I was shaking from head to foot. Suddenly my phone went. It was my cousin, Dawn, calling from Australia. I knew Dawn was a really successful medium in Australia, but I wasn’t sure if I believed in all of that psychic stuff.

      “Hello, Lee,” she said, in her sing-song Australian twang. “It’s Dawn, your cousin, calling from Australia. Listen, love, I just got a message from your mum. She says, everything’s all right. She says everything’s going to be okay, love.” I was stunned. I thanked her and chatted for a short while. When I hung up, I felt a lot better.

      I continued to drive up to Sheffield feeling strangely calm, and comforted by Dawn’s call. I kept thinking to myself, I mustn’t forget her voice. I told myself, over and over, “Don’t forget mum’s voice,” and to this day, if I want to remember mum’s voice I just have to go somewhere quiet and listen carefully. I always manage to hear her clearly. She’s calling up to my bedroom in our old house, saying, “Lee! Turn your music down!”