I too find find myself thinking of my daughter every minute of the day (she passed away 18 months ago from cancer aged 33). I know that she was well respected and is missed where she worked and achieved much in her life but I can’t help dwelling on what she went through and what she has lost. It’s all so unfair and painful. I want to try things to “change” but I really don’t know what I want to do and I’m scared. I feel that I just exist. I am aware of how things are going on around us every day and time doesn’t stand still but everything is so difficult.
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It is so difficult, and I couldn’t get Sam out of my mind, the unfairness of it all. But it also helped me come to an understanding within myself, Paul’s words helped…saying he just tries to go on for his other son James. I have another son and a grandson so I will battle through for them. I also have identical twin girls on the way, so I don’t have a choice really. The same as you Bir for your granddaughter.
love Helen
I have just got back from a trip to Manorbier, Pembrokeshire, where Chris lived and worked for a while, and loved. I went to scatter some of his ashes there. It was an amazing, uplifting, and devastating thing to do. It also reinforced some of the thoughts you have written about, the fluidity in state between life and death.
I had a dream just before waking on the day. Chris was there walking with me along the beach. It was so real, he was there with a spring in his step, well, strong, and healthy, with his cheeky grin.
He was there in the amazing light, the breeze, the horizon. I very much felt his presence, it is so liberating that his ashes are there. I am beginning to find some sort of integrity between the physical and spiritual state which this experience has given me.
I read somewhere, ’ you and I are pure light energy in its most beautiful and intelligent configuration. Energy that is constantly changing beneath the surface and you control it all with your powerful mind ’
Somehow it makes some sort of sense to me.
How are you doing ?
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You’re breaking down the barrier between life and death . You’re not just remembering Chris as he was, you’re communing with him on an ongoing basis . I do the same with Nick . It helps to stop life turning into something you need to get through before you die and can be with them again . It’s bloody exhausting but there’s an exhilaration about it.
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Paul, you have so much insight in this process, You are right, and express it so well, communing with him on an ongoing basis is exactly what I do. Also the extremes of feelings, which is becoming normality. But I am beginning to realise that these feelings are not heading off in different directions as I first thought, and found very confusing, but they are in fact part of the whole.
It is reassuring that you are finding the same with Nick.
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Yes and no . Life on earth is just a stage, of that I’m sure and although my belief in that is emphatic it would have been nice to have had him around a bit longer in this life . It’s his 19th birthday on Saturday. He was born at 11.57. I’d like to have seen him become a man which he was on the verge of becoming . I probably wouldn’t have seen that much of him now : hed have been spending most of his time with his mates and pribably be at university so I try to remember that life would not have been like it was when they were 9 and 11 , always here , dependant on me not just for food but for entertainment and everything . This Saturday I intend to spend part of the day at Mersea on my own thinking as I do everyday just how fortunate I’ve been to have two such gorgeous sons , feeling sad for sure , but knowing how much he meant and continues to mean to me , Sarah and James and everyone else who knew and loved him and knowing that he’s still there having fun and doing stuff .
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Wishing you well on your and Nick’s special day on Saturday.
(Given the date and time of Nick’s birth - no wonder he had such a great sense of humour ! )
Thank you .
I’ll be hounest,I’m not sure if this is for me_but I’m here know.know exactly how u feel.my youngest passed away just over a year ago I find it hard to talk about,but we have to believe time is a healer.
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I find talking to strangers about Nick is easier and more cathartic than talking to friends or family . Not all the time , it’s exhausting and emotional but I need to come to terms with what has happened and bottling it up and trying to do it entirely on my own , for me, isn’t the solution . It is helpful to be able to communicate with others in the same situation , I don’t feel quite so isolated .
How are things with you since we last exchanged emails ?
I thought I was finding some sort of integrity amongst the chaos, but have been knocked back a bit by the sudden death of my lovely dog. He got me up in the mornings after Chris died, when all I wanted to do was hibernate, he was a great companion.
Also I have just got back from the funeral of a good friend, also quite sudden. Her funeral was at the same place as Chris’ memorial. I thought I would be ok, but it hit me like a ton of bricks.
How are you doing ? Can you talk some more about Nick ?
Im sorry to hear . Just when you think you’re managing , something happens and catches you off your guard . I was in a supermarket recently , putting away the trolley . I let a young lad put his away first and he said ’ much appreciated’ in a newly deep and serious voice like they have , and it instantly reminded me of Nick . I felt like I’d been stabbed . We walk a tightrope , managing , just about , to keep going , most of the time, but vulnerable to being knocked off without warning . Getting back on takes so much effort . I went to Dorset for a few days earlier this month . I used to take Nick there sometimes . I sat in the garden of the tea shop overlooking Corfe castle , as I did a few years ago with him. He used my phone to take videos , which I’ve still got of course . At one point , he shook the phone and pretended an earthquake was occurring and the castle was falling down ; Corfe castle , if you know it, is a ruin .I can hear myself laughing on the video at the comments he was making , which was so typical of him . I suppose I wanted to see how I’d feel about revisiting some of the places we’d gone to . I felt sad of course and proud of him but I also wanted to toughen myself up by confronting it head on . I can , too easily , sit in one place for a very long time and do nothing except think about him, but it isn’t what I think he wants me to do . He’d tell me to get off my arse and get on with it , dad . So I’m going to try .
Well said Paul! Your tight rope description is quite right. I get knocked off and struggle to get back on. When I see my daughters friends doing the things she should be here doing, I completely crumble and just want to get back home where I feel comfortable until the overwhelming pain subsides. A spiritualist has helped/comforted me to a point. A friend who lost a son 25 years ago, said to me recently that she remembers the second year being just as tough. The reality rather than shock sets in. I too want to confront things head on. I will take on board your idea and build myself up to trying it.
Lovely memories.
Yes I know Corfe Castle, so clever of Nick to think of an earthquake.
I have recently come back from Lulworth Cove and Durdle Door with my daughter.
We used to go when she and Chris were young. She reminded me how Chris used to run around the house when he was very young shouting Durdle Door - I think he liked the sound of the double DD . Returning to these places we loved helps me keep memories alive although I feel a bit desperate at the moment.
I hate myself for lying all the time - 'oh yes I’m fine ’ ! ! But what else do I do ?
Yes Anneka, absolutely, lying all the time. It’s so difficult to say how we feel to people. Who wants to hear it? Not many people. I find it incredibly hard “pretending” even to my close family. The feelings are with us all the time. Briefly, while we are busy or have to go somewhere, they aren’t so intense. I still struggle every night and every morning. I am sorry to hear about your dog. X
I personally wouldn’t call it that; saying you’re not fine requires you to explain why 
I’d much rather say I was fine when asked how I was,than have to relive repeatedly the awfulness of what has happened . I don’t want my friends to treat me like damaged goods , I want to be able to do normal things and have normal conversations . It won’t make it alright , nothing ever will, but if it gives me a few hours break and possibly helps me to cope better , long term with losing Nick , then I’m happy to say it. And some times I am 'ok’ish . I’m sitting in my garden typing this , having just cut some of my hedge , the cats are sunbathing and the sun is out . I’ve felt worse . I’ve been to lulworth cove . I last went there just after Christmas when it was cold but sunny and watched the sun go down . It was ethereal, and I did think of Nick, but on that occasion , in an uplifting almost defiant way , rather than a sad way . What you said about Chris and durdle door made me smile 
It’s impossible not to find joy walking in the country side in this beautiful weather. I was stopped short just the other day when I spotted some yellow irises growing up amongst the vegetation by the stream they were wonderful. I know that Chris is very much with me during these moments.
At other times, though, I feel that I am existing in an alternative universe and the lying adds to the disconnect - even though I agree it’s a useful coping mechanism.
Watching the cat sunbathing also gives me joy !
Hi, how are things with you ? I’m struggling a bit (again) at the moment. I’m getting used to having one son , James. When asked how many children Id got, I continued to say ‘two sons’, not to avoid an awkward conversation, it was just automatic . Now I say one . Even though I think about Nick all the time , he’s beginning to become confined to an increasingly distant period of my life, which I find extremely upsetting. I know there’s no way of stopping this so I’m not looking for an answer. I went to Brighton on Sunday with Sarah, my ex to wait to James to arrive . He did the London to Brighton bike ride for the BHF. It was a hot day, James and i went for a swim in the sea and we had a lovely time, but never too far way in my head is the constant thought that Nick isn’t there as he should be . It so difficult isn’t it? I’m off to Gdansk with a mate for a few days to try and clear my head. I’ve known him for almost 40 years and I can be as normal as I can be with him. Hopefully a few days of drinking eating and sightseeing will help a bit .