Wednesday 27th May
It was beautifully sunny and quite warm when we visited this morning, for our daily chat with you. It doesn’t seem to get any easier to accept that you are no longer with us. After all you had been through with the chemotherapy, we honestly thought you were winning, and on the home straight. How wrong could we be?
In the afternoon, Dad sold his car, the Audi, that you called an old banger. It really wasn’t a banger at all. Dad loved that car, and for over ten years, he drove you, sitting in the back seat, behind him. Up and down to London, Exeter, Bristol, Plymouth or Wareham. Dad would watch you in the rear-view mirror, just checking you were ok. Most often you would sleep on long journeys, or listen to music or stories. I think Dad was very upset to see his car being driven away. He had so many memories of you being a passenger. Dad did cry a little, and asked me why you had to die. I want to know the answer to that too. Why? You fought so very hard. It’s not fair at all.
This evening we had the raffle drawing following the fundraiser we had for you over the weekend. There were many, many prizes: everyone has been incredibly generous. We raised such a lot of money in your memory, that will go towards the testicular cancer charity, Checkemlads. We were also raising awareness of this young man’s disease. I think we did you proud. I hope you know what we have done in your name, and are smiling down on us.
If, in some way we can help others, because of what happened to you, then your legacy will become far-reaching.
I just wish it wasn’t so.
I wish you were still alive.
I wish you were here with me now.
I miss you so very much.
I love you so very much.