Monday 13th April

I cried for you before I got up out of bed this morning. The hurt in my throat and chest seems to be there each day as I wake. I cried when we met two people on our walk into town, who spoke about you, and gave their condolences. I cried when I went to the bank and cancelled my direct debits into your account ~ your ‘pocket money’. I cried when I bought your brother a birthday card, knowing you will never receive one ever again. I cried some more when we visited your graveside to water the flowers and talk to you this afternoon.

No one really knows the depth of grief we are feeling at the moment. Our thirty year old autistic son, diagnosed with testicular cancer, was our companion. He didn’t go off and make his own way in the world, meet a girl, make her his wife, or have children. He depended on us totally. And we did everything for him, with him, based around him: he was our life. He was there, with us, always. Fun, cheeky, surprising, caring, chatty, loving.

Our lives have been changed forever. An emptiness is there, that nothing it seems, can fill. We will go on, because I’m sure he would want that, but our hearts are broken.

Nothing, absolutely nothing in this world prepares you for the unbelievable sense of loss and grief that comes when you lose your child. Parents should never, ever have to bury their child. His younger brother should not have to bear the pain of losing his sibling. There is no time limit for grief. It remains with us all, in different ways, forever.

Our son is gone, but until the last breath we take, he lives on in our hearts. His spirit is with us. The memories we have are wonderful, and we will treasure those. It’s all that we can do.

Sunday 12th April

All around us, we are reminded of you. Yes, your photographs are everywhere, your books and DVD’s neatly lined up, the many, many sympathy cards along the shelves in the lounge, (and no, I don’t know when I’ll take them down). To your shoes and slippers, your coat at the bottom of the stairs, your toothbrush in the bathroom, and your dressing gown still lying on our bed.

You are everywhere, but nowhere.

Again we light candles in the church, then tend to your grave.

We talk to you, but there is no answer.

How we wish you were here with us now. Our hearts are broken.

We just don’t know what to do.

Saturday 11th April

We bring you a bouquet of yellow roses and white carnations today. I place them amongst the sunflowers.

The letters spelling out your name in white chrysanthemums still look beautiful, and we water them, and talk to you, and tell you we love you and miss you so, so much.

We said we wouldn’t cry today, but we did.

Looking at your Auntie’s wreath, she explains her choices for you in ‘The Language of Flowers’:

Alstroemeria ~ Devotion

Cypress ~ Mourning

Eucalyptus ~ Protection

Lungwort ~ You are my life

Moss ~ Maternal love

Myrtle ~ Love

Rosemary ~ Remembrance

White carnation ~ Pure love.

Night night lovely boy xxxx

Friday 10th April

We still cry at your graveside today.

We cannot believe that you have left us.

It is so hard to understand that we will never, ever see you again in this life.

We see a goldfinch, flitting from gravestone to gravestone, singing it’s heart out. Is that you? Letting us know that your spirit is close by. The bright yellow feathers matching the sunflowers atop your grave. Is that you?

Thursday 9th April

Four weeks ago today our darling son gained his angel wings. Unexpectedly. Without warning. We still haven’t come to terms with it.

Diagnosed with testicular cancer back in October, he battled his way through chemotherapy. Only his body wasn’t strong enough to take it. He was beaten at the final hurdle.

We visited his graveside again today, as we said we would. It doesn’t get any easier at all. We love him so very much, and miss his voice, his smile, his everything.

We sow some seeds along the top of the grave, from flowers in our garden. We try to think of the good times, but our grief is so immense, it just seems so futile. He was such a great companion to have around. Life seems so very empty

In the afternoon, having told ourselves we need some exercise, we go for a walk in the sunshine. Holidaymakers are on the beach, in the cafes and shops. We head for the church, to sit quietly, collect our thoughts, and light candles for our beloved Angel.

Life seems so unfair right now.

Saturday 4th April

We sat with you again today, and the tears just keep on flowing. I’m forever trying to warm up your face and hands, but they’re icy cold. We talk to you, we tell you that you’re safe, we know you’re no longer in any pain. You lie so still, with the teddy and dolphin to protect you. We kiss you; kisses from us, and from your younger brother. We touch your heart, and want you to know that we are there with you, as you are in our hearts forever. Know that your brother loves you, and is just completely lost without you. He is not sleeping properly, and seems so very sad all the time. Withdrawn and heartbroken. He looked out for you, he did.

Later on in the evening, when we leave our younger son’s place, the biggest full moon is shining a path towards us across the sea. It’s you. Looking down upon us. Being a part of us. And we miss you more than words can say. Our full moon Angel xxx