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.

xxxx

Sunday 24th May

So there we were again, standing at the front of the store, selling raffle tickets (terrific prizes), and trying to raise awareness of the awful disease (testicular cancer), that claimed your life ten and a half weeks ago.

So many mixed emotions. So many people who knew you want to help our cause. For the most part we are able to keep these emotions in check, and talk about you and what we’re doing. And yet sometimes, the mask slips, and we just can’t help a few tears.

We stand at the front of the store for most of the day, again my sister comes along to help out, and my mum too. I think we have raised a considerable amount of money in your name, over the weekend. I hope people also took notice of the cause, the charity Checkemlads, with this type of cancer becoming less of a taboo subject, and certainly more talked about between young men aged 16 to 35 years old.

Having packed away all the display material and collecting buckets soon after four, we go to visit you in the cemetery. There a young family, whom we know by sight, are visiting the graveside of their daughter who died aged eighteen, ten years ago today. She would be the same age as your brother. We share a few hugs and tears, with a realisation that the pain never leaves, and then we walk up to your resting place. We talk to you, we hope you know we are close by, and we tell you we love you so, so much. And we miss you. We miss you every single minute of every single hour, in every single day.

xxx

Saturday 23rd May

So here we are, the first day of raising awareness of testicular cancer, and money for the charity Checkemlads, in memory of you. We didn’t really want to get up and get going this morning, as the whole reason for this fundraiser is your passing.

The hurt is still so raw, you are in our thoughts constantly, so many reminders all around that make us catch our breath, or shed a tear.

Many people gave their condolences and spoke of you, saying they missed seeing you walking around the town or beaches.

We had a big life-size photo of you placed on a pillar, and it was as if you were watching over the proceedings. I do wonder what you might have been thinking. I hope we have done you proud.

We escaped for a couple of hours when my sister took over the selling of the raffle tickets. We left the noisy, crowded supermarket and came to see you. The cemetery was peaceful, with the sun trying to break through the mist. We talked to you, and cried for you, and told of our love for you.

Our emotions seem to rollercoaster up and down of their own accord. In one situation we put on brave faces, speak of you and our adventures together fairly easily. But when we are alone we fall to pieces. The world just seems to come to a halt, and we don’t know where we are going. We cannot see the way forward. Without you.

We remain with you for quite some time, return home to freshen up, then drive back to the supermarket to continue selling tickets and talking about you.

At the end of day one, we have raised a considerable amount of money. Hopefully tomorrow we’ll do the same all over again.

Your legacy is going to be amazing, but I still wish you were here.

I miss you.
I want a cuddle, a hug, a smile, an ‘I love you’.

xxxxx

Friday 22nd May

We have spent much of the day preparing for your fundraiser tomorrow.
And we have so many bittersweet feelings.
We are doing something good in your memory.
But we really wish it was not so.

I wonder what you would have thought?
All this fuss, just for you.
Maybe you would have shied away.
But we feel we need to raise awareness of this awful disease.

We miss you my darling.
The pain is permanent.
Love you forever.
Beautiful son.
Angel baby.