Hi all. I remember going back to the hospital about a week later, I’d written a very personal thank you letter to all the surgeons and nurses that had worked on my son. He was pretty much dead at the crash site. But these people pulled out all the stops to do whatever they could to bring him back to me. He never regained consciousness from the time the car came to a standstill.
When we got to the hospital my boy was hooked up to all manner of machines. But the moment I clapped eyes on him. I knew inside my heart he was already gone. When the doctors had decided they had exhausted all avenues. The surgeon came to speak to me. I can see his bottom lip quivering now as I write this. He told me. We have to let him go we can’t do anymore. (Who’d be in his shoes).
I have the utmost admiration for the medical team. When I went back with the thank you letter. The ICU room my son was in was now occupied by some other unfortunate person with accompanying family. The staff didn’t have time for me suddenly appearing they where all to busy.
It’s a cold hard fact of life that my boy was just a statistic. Nobody’s fault. It’s just how it is. But not for us parents. That void can never be filled. It’s an indescribable loss that we endure. I know quite a few of you had anniversaries over the last few days. How did we ever get to the 1 year point. Or the 2.3.4.5.6. ect point. But we have. WE. Did it. It’s been far from easy. I’ve had plenty of days when I’ve crumbled into a sodden mess. There’s never a day goes by that I don’t feel different from everyone around me.
From the outside I look like a normal person, but inside I’m completely scrambled. The trick is trying to function as normal. I’ve often thought about moving somewhere where nobody knows me or my story. Perhaps that would make it go away. Trouble is, wherever I’d move to my scrambled insides would come with me. Each day you have to get up and paint that exterior paint on. So you can slide into that everyday life that everyone leads. I’ve got quite good at it over the years. To look at me you’d never know what’s on the inside. Even though I feel out of place everywhere I go. Except for in hear. This group.
Dear Jim
You always hit the nail on the head.
Thank you as always for posting.
It’s also good to hear from a Dad, if you don’t mind my saying so.
Love to you, Ann
Hi all
Thank you for all your lovely messages .felt a very wierd day yesterday one year gone .crazy nothing changed . I got sam balloons and red carnations .his advert came on tv on cue .song on the radio .the robin followed me about all signs i hope my little grandaughter came out of nursery and said sam watched me play today nanny dont be sad hes in heaven you cant pull him back bless her .we had chinese in the evening . Cheers to sam. Nothing changes . It seems like i lost him yesterday .the new norm thank you for all your support much love zoe
Jim you always get it right how life is for us xx
Hi Jim,
Agree with all you say in your post, I am also glad you find comfort on this site, its so healthy I feel to say to others how you really feel and open up your heart, I pray one day my hubbie can do this as he only talks to me about how he feels about losing Matt and only if I instigate it. Take care
Michelle xxx
Dear Zoe,
Well done you survived yet another milestone anniversary, i was thinking of you it certainly does seem like no time since our children departed from this world like the blink of an eye, your granddaughter sounds adorable the things they come out with, melt my heart.
Sending you much love Michelle xxxx
Dear Jim, you have incredible insight and are so articulate. You capture so completely how we are all feeling. I tend to skate through life now trying not to feel sad but over the last few days my mask has slipped. I feel heartbroken that it is so long since I have seen Gemma, hugged her, sat and had a coffee with her.
I will ‘pull myself together’ and my life will carry on but oh I miss her so much and I am sure that is how all feel xxx
Victoria I have been feeling the same. As we are about to enter May all I can think of is the 16th. It was a lovely day and I had put out a new garden table and chairs. Lisa came over to leave Jeeves with us as she had a lot to do for a wedding which I would be delivering on 18th as that’s when Lisa and family were flying off to Majorca. She was going to the hairdressers and we were minding Brooke. I took her to lunch at the Deli and a friend of hers popped her head around the door and Lisa went out to chat. It seemed ages and I was entertaining Brooke. I suddenly felt a strange feeling that her empty seat was significant. Of course I just shrugged it off but it bothered me.
The next day when Lisa delivered the wedding flowers to me I was out so we didn’t meet. Basically the previous day when I saw her for such a short time , was the last time of her being normal. I hardly had a chance to hug her and give her a kiss on the cheek. Miss her so much like you, going for coffee, shopping just everyday stuff.
I know Michelle is nearing an anniversary and it will be 3 years since she lost her precious boy. How cruel life is .
They should all be here.
Dear All,
Your messages all of hope for our futures and compassion for our losses are amazing. Probably not the right word…I can’t actually find the right words at the moment.
According to my partner of 20 years he’s keeping away from me as all I do is “snap” at him. I did say something regrettable yesterday…the day I picked my 38 year old sons ashes up. The day I looked at the casket sitting on my lap and thought " this is all that remains of my baby, my son, my best friend". Ok…I shouted at him before losing the plot completely for a few minutes. But today I thought…get through another day, visit my mother, try to smile and listen to her talk about her hairdresser being late.
No…we get home and he sits like a 2 year old in a sulk, not speaking to me because I was “snappy” with him.
Listen I said…listen to what other people have said. It’s part of my grieving for my son, I didn’t mean it, I was lashing out. “See…you’re doing it again”…" No, I’m trying to explain. This is the worst thing that could ever happen to a person. My son is dead".
At that point I have to say I’m very fortunate to still be sitting in my own home. Had there been an iron bar handy it might be a different story.
Fortunately none of the neighbours ran round in panic when I SCREAMED, RANTED AND told him to F**K OFF, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, I DON’T WANT YOU LIVING WITH ME ANYMORE.
I can’t use my thumb at the moment…it’s black and swollen. I hit the worktop several times…not my partner.
I then talked to my cousin, my good friend, for 3 hours.
I feel calmer…I might sleep tonight…I miss my son but I’m still not sure my partner truly understands the pain I’m going through.
Maybe I’ll help him pack tomorrow…who knows. That’s another day.
Thank you for listening. I’m not mad…just a mother grieving for her son.
Love Sue xxx
Your not mad. I woke one morning and banged on neighbours doors in my PJs. I woke that morning literally hysterical. I wasn’t right then at that time, in my right mind. I was beyond myself with grief. All I could think was my daughters dead, my friend came rushing out and made me put a dressing gown on. It took a good half hour for her to try and calm me and for me to get calmer (I wouldn’t go so far as to say actually calm). I just raged
I only did that once and I’m embarrassed. Surprisingly everyone was very kind. That was shock and trauma and grief. I had never done anything remotely like that in my entire life. It’s a horrible feeling, I was overwhelmed by pain. I was looking for someone to take the pain away, it will never go. I do begin to have a vague hope that sometime I will be able to have space in my heart to carry on with a different life, but to carry on somehow. Even a few minutes a day when there is some pleasure in something is a start. Its a long, tiring, cruel journey but you deserve some peace. We all do on here xx
I’m glad the day was manageable…sending you love.
Sam will always be there in your heart and by your side.
How we miss our children miss talking to them, laughing with them, making plans, meals out, not just birthdays and anniversaries but every single day…it’s a relentless ache.
Dear Kate,
Thank you for reaching out, like you I’m reliving the last time Matt was home before going off to Malawi, it was the end of Feb we watched his favourite films had his favourite foods and remember packing treats in his bag, he gave me one of his massive hugs, then when he got there he would be sending messages and photos of wild life on our family WhatsApp, his army brothers have been messaging and are coming to visit Matts grave on the 5th and have a toast or two to Matt, we love to see them they share funny stories bless them, our girls enjoy seeing them as they remind them of Matt, also Matt’s girlfriend will join us, I’m feeling down but trying to keep the act up for everyone as you do, sending you love and hugs to get you through as we approach 3 years without our precious babies
Michelle xxxx
Dear Sue,
You are not mad but your partner is a bit of an arse putting it politely, you are going through hell on earth!!
You need someone to look after you, you shouldn’t be walking on egg shells or worry about him sulking, one of our friends Deborah on this site had a similar problem with her partner you can look back but she sent him packing. Whatever you decide we are all here for you, we truly understand how you feel, take care and get some ice on that thumb
Much love from Michelle xxxx
Dear Sue
I do hope this gets sorted, you’ve enough to get through without your partner adding to your burden. I think he’s probably jealous that your son is more ‘important’ than he is. He can’t share the agony of your grief, can’t possibly understand it, and resents it. I do hope he begins to see how utterly wretched you are and finds the compassion you need. None of us deserve criticism, we are doing our inadequate best. All your friends on here support you and only wish they could do more to help. You are in such early days, though time is weird. 7 weeks since my daughter passed. I don’t know if it seems more or less. Sorry, I’m rambling now, but know that we send you so much love and caring thoughts. Ann
The sad thing is sue and nell .i felt i was the new one on here and months have passed .and now your here on this terrible road we find ourselfs on .this life .the sad thing is theres thousands of oeople suffering with loss .its a cruel world .and now i feel im obsessed with dates . Im marking the calender .about sam . Now im thinking next date was his funeral .25th may we waited so long because of covid but that give me longer in chapel of rest .this crazy world feel im going mad .thank you michelle and Helen for your kind messages . Thinking of you all sending you big hugs zoe
Dear Michelle, I will be thinking of you next week. It will be hard for you but hope you can rejoice in your precious boys life with your family and his friends around you. He was loved by many I can see, which gives great comfort as it shows what a wonderful person he was.
Take care dear friend.
Much love, Kate xx
Dear Sue, good you told him to F off! You don’t need any distraction from your grieving process. You will feel sick with grief. The pain of it making your guts twist in physical pain and the last thing you need is a selfish partner.
Maybe you won’t want him in your life anymore, who knows but you need to grieve your precious boy no matter what he thinks.
The early days are so hard we wonder how we can put one foot in front of the other. The funeral over and all we have is a little urn with their ashes. Our son in law still has Lisa’s sitting on the work surface above the dishwasher. I laughed one day I was there as I picked the urn up to hug her and thought, my poor child, all you ever wanted was a dishwasher and now you have one!
We are lucky to have our gift from Lisa, her beautiful child who lights up our lives every day. Her Daddy is amazing. We are so fortunate that he is a fantastic young man who loved Lisa so much. We miss Lisa every minute. Our first born Jemma is still grieving too. Nearly 3 years on, we all are so don’t worry about anyone else just now. None of us know how long it takes to come to terms with what has happened to us. We don’t need negative energy about us.
Take care of yourself and keep posting.
Sending love and strength to you.
You are so right, hit the nail again. I can relate to everything you say, my Sam was 34 when he died he had a brain tumour, he came home from Sweden where he was living with Mathilda his wife (she’s Swedish) to tell me he had collapsed at Bromma tube station on his way to work and they had diagnosed a tumour. They operated here, and because of the skill of the neuro surgeon he had 4 and a half years of really good life, went back to snowboarding travelling etc. But by the September of 2016 it had returned with a vengeance and there was no more to be done. But he was only ill from the beginning of November and died December 9th. Even though it was 5 years ago it will still hit me hard and the tears spill over especially when I wake up thinking for just a few seconds I had a terrible dream then the reality hits you.
The words below make a lot of sense to me.
Love Helen
YOU DON’T JUST LOSE SOMEONE ONCE
You lose them over and over,
sometimes in the same day.
When the loss, momentarily forgotten,
creeps up,
and attacks you from behind.
Fresh waves of grief as the realisation hits home,
they are gone.
Again.
You don’t just lose someone once,
you lose them every time you open your eyes to a new dawn,
and as you awaken,
so does your memory,
so does the jolting bolt of lightning that rips into your heart,
they are gone.
Again.
Losing someone is a journey,
not a one-off.
There is no end to the loss,
there is only a learned skill on how to stay afloat,
when it washes over.
Be kind to those who are sailing this stormy sea,
they have a journey ahead of them,
and a daily shock to the system each time they realise,
they are gone,
Again.
You don’t just lose someone once,
you lose them every day,
for a lifetime.
it certainly does seem like no time since our children departed from this world like the blink of an eye, your granddaughter sounds adorable 
miss talking to them, laughing with them, making plans, meals out, not just birthdays and anniversaries but every single day…it’s a relentless ache.