Memories

I have read again the early entries in my old handwritten diary, and I am glad that I wrote them down. Now I can hardly recall those days which passed by in a blur of activity, with two Thanksgiving services, one on 22nd September and one on 23rd. Friday and Saturday respectively.
I don't know how Donald, our minister at church, (or Team Leader as he prefers!) ever managed to put them together so beautifully in such a short space of time. I do recall he came to see us, the four of us, to map out the outline, and he had the most amazing suggestions. Each of us added a little bit, so we all made our own contribution, and then Matt's friends also, with readings and prayers. How did I function during those days? I know I did, as lots of people came and went.

So followed a week with the Police Family Liaison visiting us, keeping us informed as to the release of the bodies, where they were taken before that, and when the postmortems had taken place. That I could not bear...........................the thought of Matt on a cold slab, alone, injured and being opened up and his vital organs being poured over..........................it has made me cry again to think of it. But it was there in my mind in the quiet times and the early mornings.

Friends just kept on bringing in hot meals each evening for at least 4 weeks, and also sandwiches appeared each day, sometimes I would find a small plastic box on the doorstep containing cake or flapjack. To this day I have no idea who brought them. One of our friends actually cooked dinner for us on the Monday evening, 11th September, for 5 of us. Alan's friend being here. We were all numb with shock and lack of sleep.

Then the cards started to arrive, flowers and more people! During that following two weeks a tidal wave of love came into the house. People visited, stayed, 'phoned, wrote notes, letters and did practical jobs like ironing.

We worked on the African village principle, which some of our Mission partners had told us about. When someone died, the whole village would go and sit in and around the hut, just being there for 3 days, grieving and mourning.

That's how it felt in our home.

Matt and Heidi's friends were constantly about, comforting her, and our friends came and did the same for us. Alan needed his own space at times.........it was too much for him, and someone loaned him the key to their home. It was an enormous sense of help, comfort, and support.

One of the things I can recall is wanting to go through with a fine toothcomb the last few weeks before Matt died. It's as though my mind wanted to make sense of all that had happened. It couldn't reconcile the days and weeks when Matt was alive, to the ones in which we now found ourselves.

Picture of Lizard Lighthouse taken on September 9th 2006. The day before Matt died.

When was the last time I actually saw him?

What did we talk about?

When did I last speak to him by phone?

What did we say?

It became almost an obsession with me to have them ordered, as if my mind would be able to understand it better.

Last text message.......................this one taking on an importance all of its own , and to this day, I still have it on my mobile phone.................

The date..........8th September 2006 1.00pm. He had replied to a text I sent him saying I'd videoed a seal at Lizard Point for Heidi. We were in Conwall for a week, 2nd - 9th September (06)

What did it say, "Thanks! Heidi will love the video!"

Those were his very last words to me. Two days later he was dead.

So, the picture of the lighthouse taken the day we left to come home, has also taken on a life of its own. It was taken the day before he died. We then left to call on some friends in Bude on our way back, arriving home around 8.00pm on the Saturday evening.

It was a lovely month for weather.

On Sunday 10th, Matt and Chris and several more friends went to the Test match at Edgbaston. Usually he would keep phoning us up to tell us the score when he got very excited, or text to say another wicket down!

But his battery was dead and so he never received any of our text messages, and we did not have any from him. As England won, it was very unusual!! And after the accident, I so, so wished he had been able to receive them. But I was pleased they won. He would've been euphoric about that!

I think I wrote in my Teapot blog all about that too.

Even then it was as if I had to grasp what had happened................

Our immediate family began to arrive, some to stay, some to visit, some for the day even. Most of them living in the North of England it was a long way to travel. I discovered that my sister and her husband both took a day off work on that Monday morning, 11th September, to drive the 50 odd miles to my father's in Lancashire, rather than have him find out over the phone or have someone else tell him. I know now that he thought they had just decided to pay him a surprise visit...........................touchingly poignant really.

All our relatives had their own stories as to what they were doing, where they were, when the news was broken to them. Stephen's brother and his family, my sister and her family. My nephew had just flown to Thailand on 9th September, at the start of a 12 month "round the world" back-packing adventure. It wasn't easy to tell him, and it wasn't easy for him to hear. But we all said Matt would've wanted him to continue.

Then there were my cousins...................

The ripples went on ever outwards affecting more and more people.

My sister and husband brought my dad down with them on the 16th September, They gave me a magnolia bush, as we went to the garden centre, just to get out for a bit, away from the mayhem. It was the day before my dad's 88th birthday on the 17th.

The 17th was a Sunday, exactly one week since that awful night.We all decided to go to church, as it was a special service and Chris's family were going to be there.

It was extraordinary to see so many people there, and to feel the love and compassion. It was not easy, but I was so comforted by the worship that I simply sang my heart out. That's how I feel at times. Joy in the midst of all the pain. It is not the same for all of us. For me it was just the beginning of this long journey through the grief and pain......................

Two books of condolence had been opened in the church, and someone had put some toy frogs on Chris's table, he loved frogs! On Matt's someone had put a cricket ball.

It was like a rollercaster which never stopped for me, and looking back even now, I simply do not know how we got through..........when a few weeks down the line the grief would hit us like red hot irons entering flesh, searing, searing pain., wave after wave afer wave, sobbing, despairing, crying till I could cry no more with the exhaustion.

The enormity of the loss like a Grand Canyon.......................

Sunrise January 12th 2008

To me, now, this is a significant date. On January 12th last year, a Friday, I had a phone call from our Police Family Liason Officers, Jan and Gary.

She had personally taken the trouble to ring, although she was not at work.

I can hardly believe it was a year ago.

The reaon for the call was to warn me that on the breaking news was the story of the crash once more. The lorry driver had unexpectedly decided to plead guilty, and was being taken to Stafford Crown Court.

I was completely thrown by this, as we were expecting a fullblown trial in March. As it happened we were spared all that. The sceduled date for the sentence hearing was laid down now as 9th February. (07). She also warned me that it was big in the media and all the photos and accident footage would be on tv. So, I sat down and watched, like a moth to a flame...............................

I could see Chris's car, a mangled wreck, and the lorry on its side, and the accident and emergency services all over the motorway. I wanted to know the worst............and it was as if I was another person viewing all the horror that had encompassed my son and his friend.

I had to make several phone calls then, to warn the rest of the family to be aware of the news. I didn't want those who used the train to see it on the internal tv's there. I was just about functioning through the afternoon as it wore on, and the crushing weight of tiredness returned.

All I could think of was " What did they think about just before it happened? Did they see the lorry coming? Did they pray? Did they suffer? How bad were their injuries? (The last question I could not think about too deeply, as it made me very frightened. )

It took several more months of pondering, agonising and praying, until I knew that I would have to speak to the person who identified them both at the Mortuary. He came to see us one evening in July (07), and I was finally able to put that piece of my jigsaw in place.

Looking back now, to those early frantic days, just after the accident, it seems like a dream........ I just simply don't know how we got through it all. I guess shock kicks in and you function on adrenalin, seeing visitors, receiving meals, cards, letters, phone calls, organising a Thanksgiving service, and a date. In those early days, I hardly slept, and the pain had not really started, as it had not really sunk in then that this was forever.................

I cannot remember how we chose the coffin, only by asking Stephen later did I realise he did it on his own, and he did so because he thought it was better that way.............................so many things I don't know about. What was Alan doing? What did I do about Heidi? I know she stayed here for almost 3 months.........

The house was overtaken by a tidal wave of people, who showed us so much love and care, it was an amazing outpouring that we will never forget. And that care continues to this day, 16 months on. It was so comforting to know that Matt had touched so many lives.

I wrote my first blog, "Diary of A Teapot" on Thursday, 28th September 2006, the day before Alan's 22nd birthday, when we were surrounded by over 300 cards that folk had sent to us after Matt died, and we cleared a space in one room for the birthday cards, so they did not sit with the ones of condolence.

I cannot forget the smell in the house...........................it was filled with flowers and even now, if I catch the scent of lilies it makes my heart pound and my throat go dry, and I can feel the overwhelming pain once more. Lilies are forever for me synonymous with those days.

At the moment I am reading a book called "Dear Charlie. Letters to a Lost Daughter".

I began to read it several months ago and found it too raw. Timelord has read it. Charlie was 13 when she was killed outright an a level crossing near her home. She had 2 brothers.

I quote from it now:

" I find it very difficult to write about what happened that day. Eight months on, we are still trapped in the surreal nightmare that descended on us that fateful morning. For the first month after the accident we were never alone. Friends, relatives, kindly strangers, all manner of people beat a path to our door. The madness was kept at bay by a miraculous outpouring of love............

For me, then, as it is now, and I know it always will be, I must find a way to keep a connection with my daughter. I began to write to her, talking to her as if she was away on holiday............"

Here is a man, seeking to make the jump across the big divide between life and death. To him it doesn't make sense if this life is all there is, and he has no recognised faith. But to read his soul searching is to realise that man, when confronted with death in its rawness, simply cannot accept the finality.

That made me realise that I did not, and still do not, seek a connection with Matt in that way. From the first moment I knew he had died, I also knew he was safe. What I find myself doing is wanting to see where he is, with Chris and Jesus and the countless, countless others, and to be there at times. God is used to me telling Him all this!!

10th September 2006

July 2006

A few short weeks after this photo was taken in Lake Windermere, that last glorious summer we spent on holiday together as a family, Matt was dead.

I can write those words now.

It used to take me every ounce of courage to say them in those early days. Even opening my dog eared diary is like looking into another universe. There are the "before Matt died" and the "after Matt died" universes. We all inhabited one then in which life went on with its ups and downs, petty squabbles, mundane routine, a family complete. Ourselves, Stephen and I, Matt our eldest son (married to Heidi for almost 6 years in November 2006), and Alan, our youngest son, still at home but studying at University.

The "after Matt died" one is a bewildering place, one where we exist alongside all the other normal events and routine ones, but it doesn't make a lot of sense.

One of us is missing................................forever. That "forever" is a harsh reality and a frightening one at times. That fateful evening of 10th September will always be etched in our hearts and memories.

Here are some extracts from the diary I began to write to put my shattered feelings and grief on to paper. I wrote pages and pages.

"..............What do you do when the 'phone rings at around 2.45am? If you're like me you ignore it, thinking it is another crank caller once more. Then it rings again, more insistently.Start to wonder why..........

It stops.

It begins again and this time my younger son, Alan rushes down the stairs from his loft bedroom to answer the phone on the landing.We are all wide awake, listening to him talking to someone at the end of the line.... faint stirrings of anxiety begin to creep in.....is it my dad, has something happened to him?

Alan comes into our bedroom to say, in answer to my question "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's the traffic police. They want us to go to Heidi's house."

My heart stopped and my blood ran cold and icy fingers of fear started to grip my throat.

We all knew then it was something major and all three of us threw on our clothes and drove to Heidi's and Matt's home, just twenty minutes away at night without the traffic. Alan was praying loudly in tongues in the back of the car.

The verse which came to me was:

"I will build my church and the Gates of Hell shall not prevail against it"

But none of us wanted to believe it was going to be SO bad. Maybe a bad accident, someone in hospital, intensive care, but surely, surely, not death?..................................................................

So around 3.15a.m or 3.20a.m we arrived outside Matt's home, and we were confronted with the sight of a large 4x4 Police Range Rover. A young policeman was waiting for us on the pavement, and took us in to meet a young police woman, who was standing with our daughter-in-law.

"What is it?" I cried out, "Is it Matt, is he hurt, injured?"

"He's dead" said Heidi, simply, and I shouted and sobbed, and I don't remember anyone else's reactions at all..................the world was spinning out of control in my head.

There was worse to come.....................Matt's friend Chris, our pastoral minister, was also dead. Heidi was in shock. She was totally numb and acting as if she was in a different place.

We were then gently told as best it could be told, that they had both been in stationary traffic at Junction 11a on the M6, that evening, after just having left Matt's under 30 minutes earlier, to drive to Liverpool, when they were hit from behind by a lorry. It takes awhile to process information when you don't want to accept it.

We were taken a step at a time, through what had happened, what would happen next, an inquest, possible charges, against the lorry driver. Not a straightforward accident......how can anything like this be straightforward? How do you hear all that is necessary and still comprehend it?

How can I ever describe the shock, horror, numbness, and the awfulness of that night which claimed two other lives, besides Matt and Chris, and left others injured? A blur, A scream? A dropping into space? "....................

Even now it's as though it happened in a dream and we weren't really there..........

The beginning.............................1976

Wow, I can't believe I've actually managed to set up this blog! I just want a place to write out my diary entries for the last 16 months. It has been so long since we last saw our son, since his death on the motorway aged 30. A journey neither myself, my husband nor our other son, Alan, ever thought we would have to make. it happens to others not us.

His wife is devastated, after only 6 years of marriage. So, I begin, again, only this time maybe it will be simply me who reads it. Others may find it and choose to do so or not. I want it to be that way.

Some of the things I have to write are extremely difficult. So, here I go...........for the first time once more, writing about my lovely son.