[quote=“Lisa_s_Mum, post:7302, topic:6325”]
Much love, Kate xx
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Sorry not sure what happened there, probably to many gins, our children are always our babies, my husband says he is tortured by the imagine of me running up the road screaming not my baby, not my baby, but it was and I can’t accept that, not my Scott, he can’t be gone, how can this be real, I’m sorry everyone but I’m just having a real bad time, as we all are,
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I hear you, Dee. I know how it feels to say “not my baby”.
Not my child, not my son, not my beautiful boy…
I’m sorry you are having a really bad time.
I send you loving and peaceful thoughts. My own heart is broken too.
Goodnight to all of you out there, trying to manage your grief.
Susan J xx
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Dear Dee,
I am so sorry you are having such a bad time at the moment, I pray that tomorrow will be a better day, sending you love and hugs to help you through, remember you are never alone 
Michelle xxx
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Hi all we are all in such pain the ache for our children so great. I cant believe a year an half has passed since lost my son sam. The yearning is incredible. Thinking he will be at home when ive been out. The smell of his aftershave .i just want to talk to him its not right going to a wedding tomorrow my jess a. Bridesmaid. Our friend wants a picture of sam in the chapel Because he should be there.i hate the way i feel angry with ilife.i wear a mask. Inside im. Broken .the new me .i want my old life back . Thank you for your support would be lost without this lifeline xxx hugs zoe xxxx
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Hi all.
The middle of the night again. Seems to be my place in time these days. Sleep deprivation seems just one of the prices that must be paid.
Loosing a child, whatever age or whatever circumstances. The impact is still the same. It really is a life altering event. Starting a new job. Meeting new people. Meeting your partner. Having children. Moving to a different area. Even being diagnosed with an illness. All of life’s big events pale into insignificance in comparison to loosing a child. It literally is a massive trauma. What’s more it’s one that we as parents are not designed to deal with, we are not wired up to process such an event. You get catapulted from living an everyday normal life into this alien landscape. The moment you hear the news for the first time .( In my case it was the police knocking on my door at 5 am). Your world and everything in it becomes completely disorientated. The smallest of tasks become giant hurdles. The shock and despair you have to relive over and over again every single morning. For months and months you can’t except that they are gone. It can’t possibly be true. But it is. The reason it can’t be true. It’s only something that happens to someone else.
Sometimes I still get surprised at how much the event has changed me, I wonder would my son even recognize me anymore. The old me died along with him. The new me is still treading water. Even after all this time I still look for answers that are not forthcoming. But that’s all part of the confusion of this new life we lead. People on the outside looking in have no idea what incredible mountains you have scaled and have yet to climb just to get to a time when you can begin to look and act like one of the normal people again. But we are never normal again. We go from being a vulnerable psychotic train wreck, to being a master of deception. Fooling the people around us. In the beginning the loss we have endured is etched all over our bodies. It’s exhausting,It’s totally ingrained in everything we do, say and think. It’s overpowering, it suffocates us. It’s all we have become. But eventually we start to function again. The grief is all consuming at first. Then it comes in waves. Until it gets less and less. Until you get to a point were you can carry your grief around with you in a nice little wrapped up package that nobody else can see. But it will always be there. Just not as bad as what you are suffering now. If someone had written all this rubbish to me way back when, I wouldn’t have listened to any of it. But it’s true. You do get to manage your grief in the end and not the other way round.
Ok thanks for listening
Jim
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Dear Jim, wise words as ever. I particularly identified with ‘we become masters of deception’ as that is exactly how I feel. The person that people see or meet in the street is far from how I feel inside. We put on a show for people because we don’t want them to know how we are really feeling but why? Because we don’t want to frighten or upset them. So most people never get to see us as we really are or ‘authentic’ to use the new buzz word.
I was trying to think back to how I would have responded to meeting a scuffling, broken woman or man, who had lost their precious child and honestly? I think I would have been scared too because it is everyone’s worst nightmare. But I hope I would have been kind and emphatic, reached out to them.
So in some ways we are better people for losing our children. It has brought us to breaking point yet we have survived. Not only survived but here we are helping each other like a chain of people, hands outstretched, helping each other along.
Well enough waffling! Huge love to all of you today xxx
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Hi Victoria. I think ( well in my opinion). We disguise our pain for a few reasons. When it first happens we don’t care we will stand a tell absolutely anybody that is in earshot. But then we eventually clam up and hide how we really feel. Because no1. We don’t want to frighten people of how truly awful it is. No 2. We don’t want people to see us and inside they are thinking, Christ Jim,s here again banging on about his dead son, let’s avoid him.
No3. The most prominent one for me, people simply don’t care,. It’s easy for us on this site we all have empathy for each other. But for people whom it hasn’t happened to,. They really don’t want to know because they don’t want to take a look inside this horror show, coz it might give them a glimpse of what could happen to them so they bury their head in the sand. Probably done it myself before Sam died.
Take care
Jim
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Dear Jim, I like to think that people do care … how could you not? But I guess it’s thankfully beyond most people’s comprehension. I am a person who tries to look for positives in any situation and I hope there are some in our situations.
I think people we know and meet have a timeline of how long we should be grieving. I sense that and it does makes me sad. We will never stop issuing our children nod they need to understand that. xxx
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I like Victoria’s image of a “chain of people, hands outstretched, helping each other along”.
It’s what we’re all trying to do. Making contact with others who are grieving the loss of children helps us to feel less alone in this awful, dark place of bereavement.
SusanJ x
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I absolutely agree. Xxx
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Hi everyone , we have had to come back from Cornwall a day earlier , as John has had a chest infection , it has got worse , so went to Docs today nothing to worry about , it’s a virus it will settle down . I worry so much as he is 84 but looks good for his age , and fairly fit . When we saw Jackie with the reading in June . John asked Dawn when I go will you be there to meet meet me . And Dawn came back with I will dad but not yet . How do you exspain something like that . But I know all of you , feel so alone in your grief , if you have good friends that you. can talk to , that is good . I know after Dawn passed all I wanted to say to anyone , I have lost my Darling Daughter , , please help me , but their response was I am so sorry , , what should I exspect from a stranger . . Emend my Doc tot , or I had a councillor for 6 months , nothing , I still felt so alone in my grief . . So I know without you all who have helped me so much , , I don’t know how I would have got these nearly passed 6 years . I am
Looking at Dawns Photo Ias I write this and still want to cry , it still cannot believe she has actually gone , she was so so strong . I so hope God realises what an Angel he has . . With love Maddie . Xx
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Dear Zoe , please let me know how you get on , am thinking of you . Xx .
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Hello Dee
I know exactly what you are going through, I lost my son on December 9th 2016 and I am almost 6 years down the road, it does get easier but like Jim has said there are times when it can just hit you round the head. Today Sam would have been 40, and like you all it has hit me so hard im flat on the floor
and having a really bad day. But because of Sam I will make myself get up and keep going because like you said it’s all we can do. I too have over the years wished never to wake up but then I wouldn’t want to put on my other son or my husband the overwhelming pain that I feel.
I often sit and think about the years that have passed by
And of the happiness and joy shared by you and I
I think of all the laughter, the smiles and the fun
And before I even know it the tears have once again begun
For although it brings me comfort to walk down memory lane
It reminds me to of how life without you has never been the same
all my love on your 40th birthday Sam,
Love M
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I’m sending you love today and every day. Henry would have been 33 on the 5th October…
I feel your pain today especially.
Birthdays are so hard…my heart will always hurt when I think of him for more than a few seconds.
Sam will be with you today and every day.
Why us ? Why our children? The only salvation is knowing every situation is temporary.
Big hugs
Purple x
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Sending you a big hug Helen, so many things in common - I lost Heidi to suicide on Dec 22nd 2016, she lived in Bristol, and it was her 41st birthday last Friday. I wrote down that lovely post of yours ‘Ask my Mum how she is’ (we exchanged a couple of PMs at the time, a while ago I think! ) makes me cry and smile at the same time. Hoping you get lots of hugs today and that those around will hold you especially close. We will be with them again one day and of course they are always with us. Love, Kathy x
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Thank you both for your words of comfort, trying to pull myself back from that black hole of grief is hard but I have to try. Jason Sam’s closest friend has invited us out to dinner tonight, like he has done every year since Sam passed, don’t really want to go but I will because Sam would expect me to. I read this today and thought of all of us on here: -
We’ll Meet Again of that I am sure
and though I should not rush
I know that time is running out
I wish the clocks to hush
For there is more I need to do that you would hold so dear
and then I’ve lots to tell you
when once again we’re near
I’ll tell you of the starlit nights
and know you saw them too
looking from a different place but seeing the same view
I’ll make you smile with tales of joy
adventures lived for you
I’ll dip my toes in crystal seas
and bring that back to you
We’ll meet again of course we will
till then time must bend I have so much to do
until I see you once again
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Hi Helen,
Another lovely photo of Sam having a great time. So special. It’s such a difficult day to deal with, I endured Jo’s 40th in April. I sent everyone for whom I had a contact for who knew her from school, college, uni, work as well as family and my friends a photo and verse. Many had also celebrated their 40th this year too. I want her to be remembered and I received so many wonderful replies. We also went out for a meal with family. I will remember Sam tonight and will be thinking of you as you remember him along with his very special friend. Sam will be there with you all tonight.
Love Chris x
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Thanks Chris,
I will go this evening because God love him he organises everything. Sam’s other friend Rachel is doing the 100 mile walk for cancer research (Sam died of a brain tumour) and this section of the walk Jason joined her, this is what she wrote, they are all such close lovely friends of Sam
Today is a very special day remembering our good friend Sam. Sam would have been 40 today. We all miss him and his cheeky smile 
He loved his Welsh Rugby, he loved a Fosters or two. He loved his friends and family and having fun, and I will always remember Sam for his love of skittles (the sweets)
In honour of Sam, We walked to one of Sam’s special places the Cross Keys in Hanham, I had the pleasure of the company of the lovely Jason and Coco
We drank a Fosters for Sam and visited his plaque.
Always and forever in our Hearts.
Happy Birthday Sam.
Love Helen
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Dear Helen
I’m thinking of you and have just lit a candle for your handsome Sam. How dear our children are to us and our hearts are truly broken but we honour them by carrying on in one form or another. The different us, the after form that we now adopt that is so different from the before us. I had my 7 month old granddaughter today which brought me such joy but with an underlay of sadness as my daughter didn’t get to meet her. It will be 2 years in November, how time passes. Enjoy tonight, Sam would want you to .
Deborah 
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