Category Archives: Graveside

Jun25

Cognitive Behaviour Therapy

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Thursday 25th June

Instead of sailing across the sparkling, blue ocean, aboard my father’s yacht, I’m floundering in the sea, with the surf breaking over my head, and all I can see are bigger waves on the horizon. What I once had and enjoyed, has now sunk without a trace. Well, that’s what it feels like to me.

Maybe I’m a bit cynical, or I just know what the problem is, but today’s hour and a half course on Stress, left me, well, stressed.

Today I attended the first of four sessions, entitled The Stress Less Course.

I know all the stressful feelings I experience: numbness, guilt, low mood, jealousy, discomfort, insecurity, futility, hopelessness, upset, flat, tearful.

I know the stressful thoughts I experience: worry, cut-off from others, poor concentration, hard to relax, loss of interest, no get up and go.

I know that stress has affected my actions: avoidance of doing things or going places, withdrawal, avoidance of responsibility, eating less.

I know how stress has affected my body: tension, drained, headaches, tiredness, shallow breathing, stomach pains, insomnia,

I know what has caused my stress, that leads then to depression.

My own health has led me to deal with huge changes in my life recently. That I have Stage 3 malignant melanoma is something I think I have accepted since being diagnosed in 2013.

My father passed away in 2009 from Pancreatic Cancer.

My mother is in a Care Home as she has the beginnings of dementia.

My elder son passed away fifteen weeks ago today, diagnosed with Testicular Cancer, having undergone 99 days out of 100 days of chemotherapy treatment.

Oh, and I’ve been signed off work since the day my son died.

So my stress is caused by depression, life problems, anxiety, sleep problems, health problems.

I suppose this afternoon’s session was introductory, and necessitated going through all aspects of stress, anxiety and depression. But I did find it stressful, in that I had to think about what it was that created the stress, and what I should or shouldn’t do about it.

And yes, I know there are coping mechanisms, and things I should be doing to help myself, gently along the way.

I take anti-anxiety medication and sleeping tablets. I don’t smoke, nor do I drink alcohol, but I do like my cappuccinos. I try to exercise by going on a daily walk to increase my normal heart rate. Our diets are improved, and include much fruit, vegetables, fish and chicken. And I find writing about my feelings in this blog, quite therapeutic. I’m also trying to raise awareness and money for a testicular cancer charity, in memory of our son. I also have a goal to focus upon, and that is to climb Mount Snowdon in August.

What I also need to do is learn relaxation techniques, and diaphragmatic deep breathing.

I know I won’t be able to change what has happened, but I would like to feel better about myself, to have my once positive attitude back.

The biggest cause of my feelings of depression is, of course, the death of my son. My grief is, and has been, all-consuming. I don’t think I’ll ever come to terms with it. Our lives have been changed forever. The future that we thought we were headed towards has now disappeared, and we don’t know what path to take.

Maybe this group therapy to come to terms with stress, anxiety and depression will be of use to me.
But it won’t bring my son back.
It won’t change the past.

But I need to be able to swim again, without feeling I’m drowning, being able to hold my head above the waves, and reaching the shore without a struggle. The waves will always continue to break, the tides will rise and fall, I know I can’t stop the inevitable, but I’d like to be able to go with the flow, and enjoy the current as it takes me to somewhere better than where I’m stranded at the moment.

As always, thinking of you, my dearest sweet Angel xxxxx

Jun23

Month 18 results

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Tuesday 23rd June

Speaking with my melanoma trials nurse this morning, I can report that I am NED ~ no evidence of disease. This follows a large battery of tests that were performed two weeks ago. That should be a good thing, right? No metastasis of the cancer. Everything looks normal, with no change to any internal organs.

I should feel over the moon, happy at least, or a huge relief. No cancer in my body. Hip hop hooray.

On the one hand, yes, of course I do, a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. For another three months at least, when I go back, and the scanxiety begins all over again.

I’m trying hard not be negative here. But it’s difficult.

Because on the other hand, I do feel “Yeah, so what?”, shrugs shoulders, curls lip. “Whatever”.

You see, melanoma is a sneaky disease, it can lay quiet for months, even years, before unexpectedly exploding back on the scene. It’s not just a case of cut it out, it’s gone, you’re good to go.

I already know that the cancerous cells spread from the mole on my toe, through my lymphatic system, up to the nodes at the top of my leg. This follows a number of surgeries and a skin graft. Despite being told the nodes were encapsulated, there is always that niggling bit of doubt, quietly knocking on the door, at the back of my mind. It’s a bit of a deadly lottery really.

No, melanoma needs much vigilance: perhaps a change in diet and lifestyle, sun awareness and proper sunscreen use. And very careful monitoring of your skin.

So yes, I am feeling positive that I am NED, but I won’t let my guard down. Gone are the days of beach tanning to a leathery brown, my diet now contains lots of fruit and vegetables, and I try to exercise daily by walking, despite the lymphoedema in my leg. Oh, and I use sunscreen every day, too.

(Thinking of my darling boy in heaven, whose cancer was diagnosed too late.
I so wish things had been different.
Love you, love you, love you xxxxx)

Jun22

Butterfly Kisses

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Monday 22nd June

I came across the poem Butterfly Kisses and loved the words.

When we went to your graveside today, it was gently raining down, covering the flowers with sparkling droplets of water. We spoke with you for a while, despite becoming wet: I would like to think the raindrops on our faces were your butterfly kisses.

Of course we’d love to have the real thing, to have you back, to hold, to kiss, to cuddle. You really were very tactile, and genuinely loved to be loved. How we miss you. We break our hearts every single day because you are no longer around.

Sending lots of butterfly kisses to you, my darling Angel son in heaven xxxxx

Jun21

Father’s Day

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Sunday 21st June

You were the reason our family could celebrate Father’s Day in the beginning. Our elder son, born thirty years ago, followed two years later by your brother. Many meals out, cards and presents would be given over your lifetime. You were the reason my husband became ‘Dad’.

I remember one year you sent a card through the post: the envelope simply said ‘Daddy’, followed by our address. I think we still have that somewhere. So sweet, and sent with love.

Today however, was tinged with much sadness, as it is the first Father’s Day without you. Tears were shed this morning, I can tell you. And again when we visited your graveside, sat on the grass, and talked with you for quite some time.

We still can’t quite come to terms with the fact that you’re no longer with us. It just doesn’t seem right at all. Things shouldn’t happen like this. Not in this order. A father should not have to bury his son. It’s not fair.

In the afternoon we wandered down to the beach, where a fancy dress surfing competition was taking place. I’m sure you would have loved to walk about on the sand, listening to the music, and seeing all the weird and wonderful outfits on display. You liked to sit and watch the lifeguards as they patrolled the beach, look at people playing games, or watch the families on holiday having fun.

In the evening we went out for dinner when your brother had finished work. All three of us drank a toast to you, and talked about what you might have chosen from the menu. You should have been there with us, but you were in spirit, and that is important.

We love you and miss you so much.
Dad did especially miss you, on this, his ‘Father’s’ day.

Love you forever.
Sweet dreams my Angel son.
xxxx

Jun20

100 days an angel

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Saturday 20th June

One hundred days ago you gained your Angel wings and left us to fly to heaven. The complete unexpectedness of your departure threw us into the depths of despair.

It’s been hard. It’s been really hard to face the world without you. But every morning we try. We have to. For ourselves, for our younger son, and for you. We have so much to remember. So many amazing memories of your thirty years.

Today your Nan and Auntie came to visit with you. The cemetery was so calm and peaceful, with the sun shining down, and your flowers looking colourful and fresh. As the breeze rustled through the tall trees, your Auntie said it sounded as though everyone here was whispering to one another. All friends together, seeking solace.

Nan became a little upset as she touched your simple wooden cross. I do hope you knew she was there. We all loved you so very much, you touched each and every one of our lives with your uniqueness of being.

Fly free, soar so high, and know we will never, ever, forget you.
Never.
You hold such a special place in all our hearts.
And that’s where you are now, safe within our hearts.

Love you forever Angel xxxx

Jun18

Sorry, feeling a bit miserable today

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Thursday 18th June

Thursday. Fourteen weeks ago today. And I still remember everything as if it were yesterday.

Our grief feels so intense, so overwhelming and to us, right now, permanent.
We not only lost our son, but over the years he became our best friend too, our companion.
He was the focus of our lives, with immense emotional investment, and now what is left?
Now we are left with just utter futility and desolation.
All the chemotherapy treatment he had to go through, to be told it was doing its job, everything would turn out fine. It seems so empty now.
Everything we put into bringing up our son, now seems to have been for nothing.
Our daily, weekly, yearly routine has been changed forever.
We have lost future adventures and future hopes.
This is a most devastating loss, the saddest thing we’ve ever had to deal with.
We feel an incredible sense of numbness, the reality of his passing is hitting us hard.

We need a return to a sense of purpose, even though living the rest of our lives without our son seems unthinkable right now.
We just have to learn to cope, a little more, day by day.
We need to take time out. It is difficult for our brain to work when our heart is broken.

Life will not be the same again, it will be different. But it will go on.
And we have to take the memories with us, celebrate the thirty years that we had with our son.
We will continue to think about him every day, visit his grave, and talk with him.
We loved him dearly, and will continue to do so for the rest of our lives.

Night night lovely boy xxxx

Jun15

Graveside conversations

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Monday 15th June

For quite some while now we have been pondering over one of your neighbours. You see, their cross is at the ‘other end’ of their grave. We did think it a little strange, even your brother thought it had sinister connotations.

Well, today the mystery has been solved. We struck up a conversation with a couple who had come to tend that grave. The man I spoke with was a vicar, and he explained the reasoning behind the placement of the wooden cross. We were told that the gentleman laid to rest was a priest, (his name was Freddy)

Almost all the bodies in the cemetery lie with their heads to the West, and feet to the East.

However, an ordained member of the clergy is traditionally buried in the opposite orientation. This is so that, on the Day of Judgement, at the Resurrection, they may rise, facing, ready to minister to their people.

So there we have it, nothing sinister at all. You are in good company.

We also learnt from the vicar that the area of the cemetery where you are, has been blessed by a Bishop, so that it is consecrated ground. Over the roadway, where many more graves are located, is the unconsecrated ground. I think you would have been pleased to be in the ‘posh’ place. You certainly did like your posh travels, upper class hotels, and first rate service on holidays.

The vicar wanted to know all about you, and your life. He was genuinely interested in all you had accomplished, your education, your travels, your hobbies.

I told the vicar that we visit you every day, sometimes just to be near you, or to talk with you. He told me that you would know we were close by, and that you could hear us. Your spirit is with us forever.

I felt comforted by the chat I had today with the vicar. He said whenever he visited Freddy, he would take the time to say ‘Hello’ to you as well.

Sweet dreams my darling Angel son.
xxxx

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