Tragedy is my shadow

Today was GCSE results day.
And strangely was also the funeral of an ex-student, there on site, in my new school.
It's a tragedy, a girl of 21. I know nothing about her but I know she loved school, well at least her parents must have felt so. I didn't stay.
You see I'm not good with coffins, who is? But since I sat and lived through my brothers funeral I'm a mess. I find it hard seeing them no matter what and I cry, all the feelings from that day come flooding back, they fill me and the water spills over. I fill with fear and as usual I fill with the dread of not just my own mortality but that of all the people I love. But I fill with another fear now I have a daughter. I fear leaving her.
At my brothers funeral I promised myself I would live my life to the full.
Have I done that?
This summer has been insane with the potential of tragedy, and so far not us. When my brave, strong, capable mother says
"I wanted to tell you both together..." and there we are she might have breast cancer oh and needs an MRI for a suspected brain aneurysm. I went numb, I said something stupid like "It will be fine" exactly what people who don't know say.
I honestly didn't feel anything, not a single emotion and I didn't begin feeling until I had to try and go to sleep. Then that feeling of fear began to creep in, selfish thoughts of how would I have home any more. Because the truth is that my mum is home. She's the part of me that I need to feel like I'm ok. She is the bit of my life that I've always been able to rely on and trust and love. She is my consistent and it is the last thing that I could cope with loosing her.
So it reminded me of how I need to be that for my little girl and that, of late, I don't know if I have been.
I told myself recently that in a few years she wouldn't need me any more so I felt that if I went she would be ok but I'm 37 and I really need my mum.
My friends sister too dying of cancer, only 32.