Saturday 11th July

“Star light, star bright
First star I see tonight.
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have the wish I wish tonight.”

And you are my shining star.
Up there, somewhere, looking down.

But I so wish you were down here,
With us, looking up at the sky.

We went to the hospital this evening (where you spent so many nights having your chemotherapy treatment), to visit your brother’s girlfriend. She has been having tummy pains, and had been admitted for overnight observation, with the possibility of an operation tomorrow. Your brother is looking after her. Hopefully she will be home soon.

Walking down the long corridors in the hospital brought back so many painful memories and reminders. I felt quite uncomfortable and sad. I was glad to leave, to tell the truth.

Shine brightly.
Soar high.
My starlight Angel xxx

Friday 10th July

The stitches in my arm were not ready to come out today, so the nurse just cleaned the scar and gave me a new dressing. I must say it looks pretty tidy, with no redness or inflammation. It’s been nine days since I had a suspect mole removed and am awaiting the results. So it’s back to the surgery first thing Monday morning.

Having sat for almost an hour in the waiting room, I was now looking forward to a cappuccino, followed by a bit of shopping. Well, buying bouquets for you ~ no roses though, as the man in front of us gathered every single bunch. We then drive to the cemetery, armed with a new collection of flowers.

We try to look after you, and your resting place now that you’ve gone. We come to talk with you, to share our thoughts, and we try not to be sad. We cry because you’re no longer here, but we must remember all the happy adventures we had together.

We did so try to look after you when you were here with us. We tried to make everything right for you, to give you the best possible life.

Your autism meant allowances had to be made for your sometimes challenging behaviour, we had to have huge amounts of patience, but the love and affection we shared was priceless. For thirty years you were our beloved child.

Having arranged your flowers, I stood back, reflecting, feeling sad, thinking “It’s not right. This is just not right.” And the tears flow.

It’s been a hundred and twenty days since you gained your Angel wings, and the pain in my heart is unrelenting.

Love you forever, dearest son in heaven.
xxx

Tuesday 7th July

Shake it off. Shake it off.
I need to be more like Taylor.

I really wish I could shake off the dark cloud of depression that is following me around at the moment.

Becoming upset at the slightest thing, thought, sound, image or smell.

And three times today we spoke with different people who expressed their condolences. They said they missed seeing you walking around, that everyone looked out for you, to make sure you were safe. You were known by so many.

And then I got upset again when we visited your brother and his girlfriend after they had both finished work. We chatted over tea, about this and that, and I was just sad. Don’t know what brought it on. Probably thinking about you, which I do a lot.

I just miss you so very much.
Sometimes it really hits me hard, when I realise I won’t hear your voice again, nor see your smiling face, and we won’t be making plans together for the future.

Life doesn’t seem fair or very easy at the moment.

So Miss Swift, I need some help, so that I can feel better about myself and ‘Shake it off’.

Love you and miss you.
My sweet Angel son.
xxxx

Sunday 5th June

Funny
Reliable
Adventurous
Naughty
Kind

You were all those things and more, our darling FRANK.

We were speaking about you this afternoon, and I don’t know how or why, but the conversation was about how you used to swim. Whether in the sea or in swimming pools you would really enjoy being under the water, swimming like a dolphin. (Whilst we were talking about you, sitting outside in the sunshine, a little robin appeared ~ was that you, come to listen?)

You first learnt to swim when we lived in Australia, and we would go down to the beach, most afternoons in the summer, after school. The bay was very sheltered, and quite shallow.

You enjoyed snorkelling too, and had a terrific time at the Barrier Reef, seeing the wonderful colours of the amazing sea life. From reef sharks to parrot fish, coral to giant clams, it was like living in a wildlife documentary, the water was so clear.

You also went snorkelling in Tobago, where we had a trip out in Frank’s Glass Bottom Boat. You thought the gaily painted vessel was named after you, and why not? Here we followed large angel fish, turtles, and huge manta rays. You would dive down, kicking your legs, and swim along underwater.

Bermuda and the Virgin Islands were other destinations where we took our snorkelling gear. You loved playing about in the water, jumping off the boat, swimming to shore, wearing your mask and fins.

You and your brother also had formal swimming lessons, and collected a multitude of proficiency badges for life saving, and various distances. Because many of our summer holidays were spent sailing with my father, on his boat, we wanted you both to be able to take care of yourselves in the sea.

And a jolly good little swimmer you were, too.
You had so much fun.

Love you sweetheart xxxx

Saturday 4th July

I don’t know what it was today, but there were many little reminders of you, that just came along and knocked me for six.

At your graveside this morning I nodded and waved to someone who was your dinner lady at primary school. She was kind and understanding towards you always; such a gentle person. So many memories of a happy time, long ago.

We walked down to the beach this afternoon and sat watching the holidaymakers sunbathing, eating, swimming and surfing. I don’t know what brought it to mind, but we began talking about the books and magazines you liked to read, and I remembered a series I bought for you fortnightly. Once Upon a Time: a magazine, plus a cassette tape of classic children’s fairy tales. I recalled the tinkling bell sound when it was time to turn the page. And that made me cry, as I thought of you, and how you would love to read along.

All your books are still lined up on the shelves in your bedroom, along with your teddies and dolphin.

I’ve really missed you today.
Love you forever sweet Angel xxxx

Friday 3rd July

On our way back from the hospital yesterday, where I had minor surgery on my arm, we stopped at a large garden centre. I wasn’t really looking to buy anything, but then I saw an ornamental horse, suitable for the outdoors. There was a bigger one, quite a life-like, foal size, but we opted for a smaller brown and black one. You would have told me straightaway it was bay or roan, not sure which. You were incredibly knowledgeable with equine facts.

At sixteen you spent three years completing a Further Education through Horsemanship qualification. Your whole life then was surrounded by horses. You loved them. You became quite a proficient rider, and indirectly your life skills were improved. Communication, independence, awareness, empathy, general knowledge were all skills that were developed for you to have a better understanding of everyday life.

The use of horses enabled you to have increased cooperation, communication and concentration as far as dealing with people was concerned. Having autism, you shied away from contact with people you didn’t know. You found social situations very difficult to handle. But put you on a horse, you became a different person. You were in charge, you learnt how to control and care for the animal. The horse’s environment, needs and routine were then transferable to you. Teamwork, self-discipline, motivation and exercise became part of your every day life, and you thrived.

You continued to ride and work with horses for the next ten years. Going out on weekly hacks was a stress relieving activity; grooming, cleaning tack and mucking out were necessary tasks that you also accomplished.

We would all enjoy Open Days when you would showcase your skills of horse riding, whether in the saddle or bareback, in-saddle gymnastics, relay races and horse control (not quite dressage, but pretty good nonetheless). Oftentimes you would receive rosettes or awards, and then become very shy at the presentation event.

So, we have placed the small ornamental horse on your graveside, to watch over you. Not sure what you would have named it; Shreddie was one of your favourites.

Walk on.
Canter through the clouds.
Jump over all the obstacles.
Feel the wind blow your troubles away.
Love you so very much.
Angel horse rider.
xxx