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

Wednesday 1st July

Yes, we are the rememberers.
We are the ones left behind.
Remembering is what we do.
You gave us so many memories,
And we do very much, love you.

Yes, we are the rememberers.
Keeping your spirit alive.
What else are we supposed to do.
When you’re not here by our side?
And we do very much, think of you.

Yes, we are the rememberers.
Today was your cousin’s birthday.
You would have wished her happiness
And written ‘Love from Frank’.
So now I’ll do it for you, I guess.

Yes, we are the rememberers.
And you are our Angel son.
Remembering is what we do.
The memories will last a lifetime.
But we do very much, miss you.

Love you.
Thinking of you.
Miss you.
Remembering you forever.
My Angel xxxx

Monday 29th June

Your brother’s car had conked out. Well, it really belongs to his girlfriend. But anyway, the brakes have failed, the oil filter needs changing, the two front tyres need replacing, and the steering needs checking. What it really needs is a bit of care and attention, oh, and regular servicing probably wouldn’t go amiss. You’d call him a Jerk, or a Ninny.

The garage have had the car since last Wednesday, and today it is ready for collection. Your brother is working, so we are going to take his girlfriend in our car. She arrives with a gift for us: a gorgeous sunflower in a little pot. It has one flower ‘head’, but many, many more buds around the stem. Perfect. She knew you loved sunflowers, and this was so thoughtful.

We drive to the garage, collect the car, and stop to have tea in the garden centre. When we arrive home, your Dad plants the sunflower in a bigger pot, so that it can take root. You would have loved to watch it grow.

Just as you were coming to the end of your chemotherapy, you had bought some sunflower seeds, and said you were going to grow the biggest sunflower ever. Dad has planted those seeds in the garden, and right now the seedlings are about 20cm tall ~ no sign of flowers yet, but the stems look really strong.

My brother in America has also planted sunflower seeds, and his are probably three times the height of ours ~ must be the warmer weather at his cottage.

So your sunflower spirit will live on, across both sides of the ocean.
I just wish you were here to see them.

Love you, my own little sunshine xxx

Sunday 28th June

Our Sunday’s have gotten into a little routine ~ we collect my mum from the care home, meet up with my sister, and all go out for lunch and afternoon tea.

I was going to say, it was a family outing, but it’s not really, because you’re not there with us. You would always enjoy coming out for Sunday afternoon drives, stopping somewhere for a cake and lemonade, being able to walk outdoors and chat with Nan.

Now, all we can do is talk of you, about you, remembering you. Nan sometimes becomes tearful; she really does miss you, and it is hard for her.

Having said goodbyes to my mum and sister, we end the afternoon with you. At your graveside, talking to you, recounting the conversations we have had. Standing there, in the quiet solitude, just the two of us, we try to understand. But there are no answers.

We miss you.
It shouldn’t have ended this way.
And the tears fall.

Love you forever Angel son xxxx