Simply remembering..........................................

My dad with Heidi, at the Lizard 2004. The other pictures are all taken there. The second and third ones at Cadgwith, a favourite stopping place.............then Matt at his brother's 21st, September 2005.

And my dad, last May, 2009.

We're into our fourth year now without Matt, and the beginning of a year without my dad.

How lives can change in a short time.

And on days when the sun shines and the skies are endless blue, the missing of them tugs at the heart.............

These brief days of summer sunshine bring back so many thoughts of other days shared and enjoyed......................

And now are no more.

And in a couple of weeks time, Timelord and I will be back in our favourite place on the Lizard, just the two of us...............................................enjoying again the beauty of the scenery and remembering.

Mothering Sunday again

The reason Matt was holding a Rolf Harris cd was that his brother Alan was going to Australia to live in Brisbane for just under a year. He was going to work with Scripture Union Queensland. He went in October 2003.

It caused much merriment, this cd!

Especially " Tie Me kangaroo Down Sport" and "Jake the Peg......." !!

TL had "Waltzing Matilda" as his ring tone on his mobile whilst Alan was away.

Touching.

The settee and décor are changed now.

Bit like us.

Mothering Sunday cards,( to give Mother's Day it's correct title) have been in the shops for awhile.

They are like a double-edged sword to me.

Our family is forever incomplete.

Mothering Sunday last year, 2009, saw me again on the M6 driving North, as my dad had been taken ill. I was there two and a half weeks.

I took my cards with me and the gifts I had been given. And as I drove, I thought how ironic it was to be driving on that particular day, as once again I drove passed the site of the accident, deliberately, a defiant homage to you, Matt.

So here we are again, and on Sunday we will have Alan and Jen here. And we will enjoy the day. I still have two sons..........

I have two sons,

Forever in my thoughts.

And prayers

And tears and love

Anguish

Joy

Pride

Wonder

Sadness and gladness.

To hold you when you were born

Was the most amazing thing I have ever known,

To say goodbye the most profound

Deep

Dark

Grief.

Two brothers

Now one without the other

Scarred

But we remember

You

So, on Mothering Sunday, I will run the gauntlet of loss once more, thinking of that other mother for whom the day is named.

Then comes Easter!!!

Home again.

Home again...................from the hills.

I drove the miles yesterday.......

South.

Thinking of you.

And thinking of the dad I'd left behind.

One aged 91

And the other forever 30.

Memories of the two of you together surface now

A proud granddad relating to us how he sported a red rose the day you were born,

Pushing you out in your pram, when he and mum came to visit

Giving you a Burnley FC bobcap, and having his photo taken with you, in the kitchen of our second flat, near Portsmouth.

Teaching you to sing,

"You push the damper in,

And you pull the damper out,

And the smoke goes up the chimney just the same.......

Star of the evening,

Sail across the cook-house doo-oo-or!

Star of the evening,

And the smoke goes up the chimney as before!"

All this to vigorous hand and arm actions!

He sang it to me when I was small. And so I sang it to you.

On the hillside in the picture, near the tower, I have a photo of the two of you one Easter.

Good Friday was always a day when people traditionally climbed up there.

You were in your late teens, and smiled at the camera, jacket slung over one shoulder.

Posing for the shot!!

And I drove on..........

I had driven over 300 miles in 4 days, as I also travelled over the Pennines to see my sister.

As I turned on to our drive, Tiger was sitting in the upstairs bedroom window, surveying the scene.

As it was an almost springlike afternoon, he was released from his captivity into his favourite haunts outside.

I closed the door once more, to silence, except for the ticking of dad's chiming clock..............

Home again, and yet not home,

I'll never be competely home,

There's a space, a void,

But you had made the journey with me..........all those miles, there and back.

Time to enter my life here once more...................and as usual it started with a cup of tea.

Matt's beloved Villa!

The last time Villa won something significant, was the Coca Cola Cup, in 1994 against Manchester United.

There is a good story behind this picture of Matt in the Villa Family Suite, holding up the trophy in April 1994.

And now they are in the League Cup (Carling) Final again, playing Manchester United again!

I remember quite well when we watched the match on television. The highs and lows, the nail biting, the cat disappearing fast when we all shouted and threw cushions in the air! Each goal celebrated with whoops and cheers!!

When Villa brought the trophy back to Villa park, they paraded it round the ground, for the fans to see.

It was a night match and I took Alan along with us. He was 10 years old and Matt about to become 18 years old.

We were in the Doug Ellis Stand, near the front. But we found our view restricted by a huge net of balloons on the pitch, as the players walked around the ground, in front of the baying Holte end, then on to the Trinity Road stand opposite, but having completed their walk at the North Stand, for some inexplicable reason they did not come along the ( what was then) the Witton Lane side. So having been there early and also got very wet as it was raining, and Alan not feeling too well(!) we did not even get a glimpse of the cup.

I decided to write to Doug Ellis, (known as Deadly Doug to afficianados!) the then Chairman. I simply told him that we had waited in the rain and with great anticipation, only to be denied the pleasure of seeing the Coca Cola (League Cup) Trophy that night.

To my astonishment I had a reply.

Doug Ellis apologised and said if I were to take Matt and Alan to the match on April 23rd, Saturday, tickets provided, we could all got to the Family Suite before the game and have photos with the cup!!

What a result!

It was Matt's 18th Birthday that very day!!

How proud he was and thrilled and excited all at once as he lifted that trophy for his photo.

Mum and brother also have photos.

A wonderful present!!

Sadly no ticket for dad.

But we all went out to dinner that night for another celebration.

Matt actually got to play on the hallowed Villa turf with his works' team. He came to have his photo taken by us, and you can just see him at the front of the picture!! he always fancied himself as Frank Lampard!! He did have a likeness to him! But they lost. Not before his mum had bawled and shouted during the matches. (It was a 7 a side knock out.)

One Chris Rankin and his sister were with us, and Chris had never seen us shout and whistle before. He said it was a revelation! (;-))

And it was Chris's birthday this last week.

We miss him too.

Hasta la vista Señor Pasta Creese!

God be with you both till we meet again.

Matt in the last photo in San Francisco wearing his Villa shirt.

Christmas is coming, Matt. (December 2009)

We had good times, exciting times at Christmas. There were times when it wasn't so too.

But you always anticipated it with such eagerness and zest!

Our lives have forever changed, Matt.

People may think that grief can be compartmentalised into stages, or a pattern..........

Yes, there are certain things which do "fit" the grief journey process, but by and large, I've found since you died in September 2006, that it can be circular..

What I felt then can come back at any time, through a random event which triggers a memory.

Last night we were watching tv when the song which was sung at your wedding began.................................." I'll be kissing you" and I couldn't listen any more.

Ok it was on "Strictly Come Dancing" and eventually the storm in me subsided. But I was in tears......as I could suddenly see you there..........alive again. And realising again your absence like a searing pain.

I learn to live with it, address it, talk to close friends about it, others who knew you, loved you.............you will never be forgotten............

And Christmas is coming again, without you. An empty space..............a remembered time of Christmases with you.

So, sometimes my pain is hiddden, when well meaning people ask, "How are you?" and I know full well if I told them exactly how it is, they wouldn't cope with it.

I drove back down the M6 on Thursday morning, Matt, and past the place where you were killed, normally it doesn't affect me, as I just pay you silent homage........but this time, as I drove past and down the M6 Toll homewards, the tears began to fall. I was coming home to face another Christmas without you.

How long will it be till it doesn't feel like a Grand Canyon of grief, never.

Like I said

I learn to live with the pain.

Love you Matt,

Miss you.

PS You would laugh at the décor on the old photo here!!

Always in my heart.

Remembering your Wedding Anniversary

November 18th 2000

I come up through the layers of sleep

Each day

And I remember.

I waken to the sounds outside

I see the day unfold

A day you cannot see.

My heart has that familiar lurch of pain....

There have been so many days without you now

But it is only like yesterday that you were gone

In a flash

In an instant

Broken beyond repair...........

How can I ever forget?

Never.

The depth of silence in my life where you existed is profound

I can hear your voice at times

But it is no longer real..................

I see your smile

And I long to see you.

And I know

I will never be the same

We are left here

Those of us who love you

Who go on without you......................

As we have to do...........

Marking each anniversary

Each birthday

Each memory

So you remain with us.

The ripples of your life that was

Flow on in others

Each having a different track

A different story

Some are yet to be told...............

I have to face the day

Each day

Afresh

Dry the tears

And push through the pain

But know

You were so loved

And eventually

Slowly

I can smile.

Random thoughts in the first week of September

Blogs

I started writing my first blog in September 2006. It helped me to put down in writing how I felt about the events, now 3 years ago next week, of that 9th month, and beyond.
It was called "The Diary of a Teapot" .

Eventually, I printed it all out, and deleted it. I wanted a change.

















The next blog was called "Musings Of a Tea Drinker".

I began that one early last year and now it too, has changed into
"Is there anymore tea in that pot?"
This one is still going alongside the one I write in here..............


I was pleased to see that "Tractor Girl" has started one of her own. I have benefitted from writing. it has been cathartic and therapeutic, and keeps me connected in a small way to my son, Matt. He wrote his own blog under the title " Freelance Nerd"
He was still writing it the week that he died.

I had them all spread out this morning on the bed. I keep them in a folder, and it is surprising when I re read them, to actually find that I have become that bit stronger. It sometimes doesn't feel like that when a random event, another tragedy, or a vivid memory suddenly open up the underlying chasm of grief, which is always there, and always will be.

There have been good days to remember in the last couple of years.
The first year having passed in a blur.
Some downright bizarre!! Like the day I saw a bloke taking his pet python for a walk in Haslingden, where I had just stopped with my dad in the car, to buy some cake! I got out to talk to him and as I always have a camera

handy, the result is what you see!!
Looking at these photos makes me wonder how on earth we all coped......

I also write my own personal diaries. The red one is the first year and beyond and the blue one is still going but almost full up.

But I still need to write.
The fact that I don't write as often, shows that I have made progress in my journey.
People talk about " the beginning of the grief journey" and it is true.
We all of us who grieve, have to go on this road we never wanted, and we can only do this ourselves.
Oh yes, friends, amazing ones for us, strong family, random strangers, shared memories, all are vital. But our grief is our own. It is unique in the way we related to the one whom we loved who is no longer there. Each of us in a different way.
People who knew Matt each have their own unique memories, all different, some shared. For me he is totally irreplaceable.

So here I am again, another September, three years on, having met a man last weekend whose son was killed by a hit and run driver in Bristol in May He was 11 years old.
We were in church with Alan and Jenny in Bristol last Sunday morning when the young man spoke of his devastastation, and his need to try and rebuild his shattered family.
He talked of it being the worst ever dreadful time in his life, and how he never wanted to live through anything else like that again.
Our hearts went out to him.
I spoke with him afterwards, and he told me some of the story and said "I am only now, after 4 months beginning to feel a bit like I can survive".
He has plumbed the depths of his own personal Grand Canyon, and faith.
But he was pleased I had spoken to him, and it was one of those moments that are meant to happen.

So, the sun is shining, the wind blustery, one of my friends just phoned to see how I am, and ask me out for a meal next week................God moments...........to those who look for them.