Poem for Matt written in 2008

Poem for Matt

There's a hole in the world

Where you used to be.

It is perfectly shaped in your form,

A vacuum, but it's there.

Like reaching into the space where you

Lived and breathed.

It's a mocking illusion.

There's a hole in me

Where you used to be

Gaping,raw,aching,

Arms cannot wrap around space.

There's a hole everywhere I turn

It travels with me silently

Wherever I go

It is always with me

A reminder of all that we have lost

And, on returning, the memories

Burning

Down the years where you were real

Tangible,loved, living, breathing.

There are holes in the world

I recognise others-

Children lost forever

Parents who grieve

Over what might have been.....................

And now snatched away

Suddenly,

Leaving only brokenness.

There's a sadness in their eyes

Like a reflection

From a deep well

Of pain

Hidden but always there....

Surfacing at times to overflow.

And it goes on until

We leave a hole in the world."

Mothering Sunday 2011

My mum and dad with Matthew near their home in Rawtenstall.

I still find Mothering Sunday so hard and once again this past year more changes in our lives. I feel the loss of my dad keenly. My mum died in 1990.

And there are still times when I need to write about Matthew more than others.

I've ceased caring what others think about it.

He was my flesh and blood, carried for 9 months and a wonderful gift.

How can I not feel that loss above all others so deep, so vast, so forever.

And the wonderful news about our first grandchild, due to arrive in the autumn, has stirred so many memories. They come unbidden to the surface.........

How it felt to hold him, his smell, his smile, his tiny fingers and toes, his cuddliness, and warmth.....his aliveness.

This year we will be on our own on Mothering Sunday, as our son lives in Bristol, with his lovely wife, soon to be another family unit, with two cousins already living nearby, and close family on the doorstep.

Then the grief is strong. The emptiness of my life where Matt used to be, and now there is only a sense of his life in Birmingham, impressions of him, stirrings of the voice which used to speak to me, and living not far away.

So I have closed my Facebook account today, for the time being, to take refuge in other words.

I could not face the Mother's Day wishes that I would inevitably read there , on a day when I will not see either of my sons.

Cowardly?

No, I need to be able to sometimes have the strategies for dealing with how I feel.

It is always the special days that are the hardest.

Birthdays, Christmas, Anniversaries.......and each one who knows loss says the same.

Being a mother is the deepest, most profound experience, and having physically given birth, the bond is one which is absolute.

It goes on forever.

Leaving a legacy.

I have recently watched again Matt's Thanksgiving service on dvd.

It took place on 22nd September 2006, 5 days after my dad's 88th birthday and 7 days before Alan's 22nd birthday.

It was a very moving experience, and as it was only the second time I had watched it in 4 years hardly surprising.

I also found it comforting to see how full the church was and the many people young and old, who had made a special journey to be there.

There were around 450+

The many conversations afterwards, and in later months and years, stories filtered down about people who had reassessed their lives and made changes.

A life cut off at 30 made them think of what they considered to be vital to their own................

But the thing which grabbed me most of all was what Matt had considered important in his life.

His faith, and his care of others, came to the fore, not to mention the sense of humour which would have him rolling round the floor laughing at times!!

All this made me smile.

And remember.

So if you read this I hope it makes you think...........

Matt left a legacy...................long may it bear fruit.

Legacy by Nicole Nordemann

I don't mind if you've got something nice to say about me

And I enjoy an accolade like the rest
You could take my picture and hang it in a gallery
Of all who's who and so-n-so's that used to be the best
At such'n'such ... it wouldn't matter much

I won't lie, it feels alright to see your name in lights
We all need an 'Atta boy' or 'Atta girl'
But in the end I'd like to hang my hat on more besides
The temporary trappings of this world

I want to leave a legacy
How will they remember me?
Did I choose to love? Did I point to You enough
To make a mark on things?
I want to leave an offering
A child of mercy and grace who
blessed your name unapologetically
And leave that kind of legacy

I don't have to look too far or too long awhile
To make a lengthly list of all that I enjoy
It's an accumulating trinket and a treasure pile
Where moth and rust, thieves and such will soon enough destroy

Not well traveled, not well read, not well-to-do or well bred
Just want to hear instead, "Well Done" good and faithful one...

Listening to the clock............August 2010

When I have had my breakfast, I like to sit in our back room, looking out at the garden, and then I open my Bible.

Quiet moments.........................

Special moments......................

I am privileged to have the time to spend reading and then in prayer.

These moments have become even more special during the past 4 years, (next month) since Matt's death.

A marshalling of thoughts, and a renewal of strength.

And do I need it still at times, to go on.

All this is now taking place alongside the ticking of dad's clock. A nice symmetry in that. He bought it not long after the death of my mum at the age of 70, in August 1990. He said it was like a friend, and helped him to cope with the silence of the evenings.

And now it is a reminder of them both.

So this morning before I sat down I wandered up the garden, and sniffed the air. There was a nip in it, and a sense of approaching autumn.

I used to love the onset of autumn, the richness of the colours, and the sharpness of the light. Some apples lay on the ground, fallen from our ancient tree. It has produced a good crop this year. They are surprisingly sweet.

I know every inch of that garden, and love grubbing about in the earth and pruning bushes and trimming the rampant hedges!!

But the nip in the air and the indefinable subtle shift in the colours of the shrubs and leaves made my heart lurch....................................................

September approaches.

And what do people say at times, after 4 years have almost passed, on 10th September, 2010

" Time heals"

" It gets better as time goes on"

"The sense of loss decreases"

" You are 'moving on' "

" Life goes on"

Well, I can categorically say

" No, time does not heal, and never will. The wound is still there, not as raw, but each morning and evening it makes it's presence felt"

" In lots of ways it does indeed get better, but it will never ever be the same without my son"

"Yes, I am moving on, that is how it should be, and I have no choice, the alternative would be not to live anymore, and that is an easy option"

" Life goes on............................all around, the ups and downs, the good times, better times, difficult times, joyful ones, downright bad ones, life will always go on........................we have to choose to face it head on"

For that I have my special moments each day, wherever possible, and a Saviour who suffered for me brings me comfort.

Autumn beckons

Edges of leaves beginning to appear in subtler moods of russet reds

Landscapes of rolling corn, yellow against an inky dark storm-approaching sky, lit by a decreasing sun-strength.

Birds are quiet

Fledglings flown

Fruit trees weighed down

And the waves break over the rocks where you are hidden.....................

The seagulls wheel overhead

Autumn beckons...............................

My heart lurches with the memory

So it will be because when we love deeply,

We inwardly mourn deeply, hidden from the world,

In a private place,

Our own thoughts

Of a baby nestled close

First laugh

First step

First word

First birthday

First friend

First school

First "I love you mum"

First heartbreak

First prayer

First home

First car

..................................................

30th birthday.

Last day.

10th September 2006

So, my heart tells me what I already know,

September beckons.

Dad's rose.

Early I woke today, dad

And went out in the freshness of the morning

Smelling the damp grass where the shower passed

Last night.

The cool newness of the air,

After a warm night.

It's always like this

In the arrival of the long summer days

When we have the endless blue and the

Unexpected warmth of a sun

Which brings dappled light

And throws sharp shadows

On the ground.

This time we have a taste of summer

That brings with it

Another summer remembered

Hot, sunny, burnt lawns

Sultry air suddenly touching my face.

Another garden........................

Another place.

And a hug, given with love.

Summer days, long evenings, stir the depths of all I have lost.

But for dad, I now have a rose

Who has bloomed as gloriously as the ones

He used to grow

And my sunflowers

For Matt,

Are once again making their journey

Towards the sky of blue.

I love their French name

Tournesol

Meaning

To turn the face to the sun.

So dad,

Your rose is beautiful today.

Love you,

Both.

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!!!