Thursday 4th June

Having walked around the town this afternoon, we stopped by the wall overlooking the beach. Windbreaks, sunbathers, swimmers, lifeguards, surfers, children; they all added to the colourful background of white sand and deep blue ocean. We sat where you would often stop and watch the ever-changing scenery all around you. Thinking. Daydreaming. Lost in thought.

Were you sitting next to us today? Taking in all the movement, sounds and smells. I wish you had been there, we could have gone for a lemonade or an ice-cream. We could have all walked along the beach together, filling your shoes with sand.

But you’re no longer here.

It’s been twelve weeks.

And

I just miss you.

xxxx

Wednesday 3rd June

“Beautiful Memories

A bouquet of beautiful memories,
Sprayed with a million tears,
Wishing God could have spared you,
If just for a few more years.
We love you, we miss you,
And we are proud to keep
Your dream and vision alive.”

We have been spending the last few mornings giving out raffle prizes to the lucky recipients as they come into the coffee shop at the local supermarket. We are congratulated on the amount of money raised for the testicular cancer charity, Checkemlads, and many have asked when we are holding the next fundraiser, or that we must make it an annual event, as it was so successful.

It’s good because we are raising awareness and money, but so, so sad that it’s all because of you, and your untimely death.

And do you know what? Your oncologist rang me this morning. After eighty three days of silence, since your passing. Our GP had emailed him twice, and twice the reply came back that he would contact the family.
Nothing.
Until this morning.
I have asked for a meeting with him, rather than talk over the phone.
There are still so many unanswered questions.

Visiting your graveside today, we stood in the sunshine and cried.
I know seeing the oncologist won’t bring you back, but he was supposed to be looking after you, curing you, giving you chemotherapy to shrink the tumours.
So what happened?
Why didn’t you make it?
What went wrong?
Will we ever get the answers we want?

My head is full of hurt and anger and negativity.

I love you so dearly.
My heart is broken.

Sleep tight Angel xxxxx

Tuesday 2nd June

Although it had been raining when we visited you this morning, the sun was trying it’s hardest to peek through the scudding clouds. The grass was slippery, but your flowers were catching beaded water droplets and sparkling like mini crystals. We spoke to you for quite some time. Chatting away about this and that. Ever hopeful that you know we are close by and thinking of you constantly.

Later on in the day I went to a gemstone shop to change a honey-amber ring your brother had bought for my birthday, (it was a little bit too small), and looking around on the shelves, I saw a beautiful opalite, carved Angel. It has a milky opalescence, with flashes of blue and gold, depending upon how the light catches it. I bought it for you; your guardian angel.

Loving you and missing you so very much, every day and every night.

My dearest sweet, angel child xxxx

Monday 1st June

I read out this poem at the end of your eulogy in the church. I love its simplicity and the way the words flow: I have memorised it, and use it as a calming exercise when I need to work on my breathing. It is a statement of great love and devotion.

Written by Leo Marks in memory of his girlfriend who had been killed in a plane crash, and then used by a French resistance agent as her personal cipher code during the second world war, it has been used time and again at weddings and funerals alike.

Whether I speak the words out loud, or say them silently in my head, I see your face. Your happy, smiling, carefree face. I try to get to the end without shedding a tear. And that is so hard as your passing has left such a huge void in our lives. We miss you. Plain and simple. The pain never ends.

The Life That I Have

The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have is yours

The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause

For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.

Leo Marks

Missing you so very much.
Love you to the moon and back.
And all the world.
xxxx

Sunday 31st May

Apparently there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. They don’t occur on some linear, neat continuum though. All at once, in any order, whenever, wherever. Grief is an individual, unique happening in a person’s life, as they deal with their loss in their own way.

I’m not dealing with it very well. I’m not denying it, nor am I angry. I’m not bargaining with anyone, neither can I accept it really. I am just sad. Depressed I suppose. All the time. Anything can set this feeling off. Whether it’s watching aeroplane vapour trails, hearing a song on the radio, looking at a photograph, or standing beside your graveside.

I am lost without you. For thirty years we looked after you, took care of your every need and fought for you. You and your younger brother were our whole family, and we spent many happy times travelling the world together. Your brother grew up and moved on, but because of your autism, you remained with us. Our holidays were booked for three adults, but you were a child to us. Like a twelve year old, for eighteen more years.

And today I am sad. Crying for you when visiting the cemetery today. It seems so unreal that this has happened (denial). It’s just not fair at all (anger). Why couldn’t it have been me? (bargaining). I’m still crying (depression). I touch your cross, tell you I love you, and we drive away (acceptance). And I’m still so very sad. We had so much planned for you, so many places still to see, so many theme park rides to try, so many more roads to travel.

We loved you so very much, and this is probably why our grief is so immense. It is so heartbreakingly sad to realise you are gone.

Love you forever, angel xxxxx

Friday 29th May

A dear friend, whom I have known for well over forty years, sent me a card for my birthday yesterday. Inside was a wonderful silver Angel lapel pin.

“Walking quietly with you
Is the dearest friend of all
Travelling life’s path with you
Carrying you when you fall.”

“Angels are universally known to bring comfort and love to all.
To receive an angel is to receive the purest of love and she should be cherished forever.”

Such a lovely, thoughtful gift. I will certainly treasure it and keep it with me always.

My son unexpectedly gained his angel wings on 12th March this year. He was thirty years old, diagnosed with testicular cancer and one day from completing his one hundred days of chemotherapy. His body could not take the aggressive regime of the cytotoxic treatment.

We were not prepared for his passing. We thought he was winning, we knew the tumour in his brain had shrunk markedly. We were making plans with him. We had so much hope.

And now? He has become an angel, and we are left behind: sad, empty, numb, not knowing what to do next. We miss him so desperately. Irrevocably changing our lives. The future has been rewritten for us, but we have no idea of our part within it.

Angel son.
Love you forever xxx

Thursday 28th May

So, here we are again. Another ‘first’, without you. My first birthday without you here to share it with me. Normally you would be home for the half term holiday, along with a present and a card for me. Your presents have ranged from wrongly-sized, pointed stiletto boots, strange, yellow chiffon dresses, to car boot, sparkly jewellery, pretty necklaces or a big, pink, faceted crystal. I’ve missed you so much today. I really have.

We spent the afternoon watching your brother and his girlfriend, kite-surfing, along with my sister. It was a bright and blustery day. You would have enjoyed it. We had lunch at the Sunset Surf Cafe, and later on, dinner at the Beach café-bar.

It’s so hard trying to enjoy things, when suddenly you’re reminded that you are no longer around to share these times with us.

Angel son. We grow older, and you remain forever thirty years old.

Love you, miss you.
Wish it wasn’t so.
xxxx

Monday 25th May

I like these words today.
They made me cry when I thought of you, and how much I love you and miss you.

Standing close to you this morning, we both wished you were back here with us.

Losing you just hurts so much xx