Kashie's Story

A daughter’s heartbreak and a chance to change the future

Christmas was always the season that lit up the Dhesi home. For 55-year-old Gurbaksh, from Coventry, it was the day she poured her whole heart into. The laughter, the bustle in the kitchen, the slow, careful preparation of dishes passed down through generations. Every detail mattered because Christmas, to her, meant family. It meant love. It meant everyone together.

But in December 2024, the warmth of that tradition was touched by something none of them expected. On Boxing Day, just hours after the celebration she adored more than any other, Gurbaksh passed away from pancreatic cancer.

Her daughter, Kashie, still speaks of her mother as if she might walk through the door at any moment, apron on, spices in hand, ready to feed an army.

For Gurbaksh, food was never just food. It was how she loved. She was the one who remembered everyone’s favourite dishes, who stayed up late preparing trays of treats, who insisted on sending guests home with leftovers wrapped in foil and warmth. Her Christmas table wasn’t simply a meal. It was an expression of devotion.

But in the weeks before Christmas 2024, that bright, constant energy had begun to fade. She mentioned stomach pain. She ate a little less. She was more tired than usual. These were small changes, that any family might dismiss. Nothing sharp or dramatic enough to set off alarm bells. Nothing that hinted at the silent cancer growing inside her.

By the time she was finally diagnosed, the truth arrived like a blow no one was prepared for. The cancer had already spread too far, too fast.

On Boxing Day morning, with the tree still lit and the remnants of Christmas still scattered around the room, the family gathered at her side. Surrounded by the people she loved most, Gurbaksh slipped away.

“I had mentally prepared myself for the possibility that we might only have a few months with her, but I never imagined it would be reduced to just days. The speed at which pancreatic cancer took her life is something I still struggle to comprehend.’

“Mum loved Christmas more than anyone,” says Kashie quietly. “Losing her the day after has changed this time of year forever for us. It will never feel the same.”

Grief settled into their home, but so did something else: determination. Kashie is now sharing her mother’s story because she hopes it might save someone else’s. “If one family recognises the symptoms earlier because of Mum, if one person gets diagnosed sooner, then her story will have made a difference,” she says.

She dreams that other families might be given what her family lost so suddenly: one more Christmas, one more birthday, one more ordinary moment that becomes extraordinary once it’s gone.