Dear Jim, you are so good at putting the point across.
I have now stopped saying that I am fine when I bump into someone I haven’t seen fir a while. Instead I give the honest answer ‘well, you know, OK I think but what else can I do but just get on with it’. Reactions vary. Some will pull me into their arms for a hug, others will say they can’t imagine how it feels, then there’s the ‘oh well, nice to see you’ and the quick get away. We have all been there! We are now good at dealing with all these people.
Next Monday very close friend’s are visiting from Somerset. They are loving and caring friends. Bridget lost her nephew of only 22 who was blown up by a mine whilst on active service in Afghanistan. This Sunday their whole family will lay a wreath in remembrance. She had been her sisters birth partner when he was born. Saw him draw his first breath and she feels the grief as deeply as his parents.
She said seeing his coffin coming off the aircraft when he was brought back was the worst day of her life.
What really passes me off are those that wear the white poppy! What about all of those who gave their lives to protect us! It’s a shameful thing as far as I am concerned.
Anyway, when our friends are here we will talk about our girls, Jemma and Lisa as if Lisa is still with us. She was such a laugh and now we can recall her laughter with joy in our hearts. Life changes, grief changes us but somehow we manage to live again.
Today I am taking Brooke for her first ice skating lesson! Lisa will be watching I am sure of it.
Dear Jim, Kate and all, It is sometimes very hard to talk about our children. Parents who have not lost their children are able to talk about theirs but it almost feels as though we have lost the right. I think it is partly because our living children naturally move on through their lives, gaining new experiences, so it is easier for people to ask ‘how is so and so getting on at uni? Or ‘how is her new job going’? Bit the children we have lost do not move on so people actually don’t know what to say to us. I am lucky in that I am blessed with very close friends who do talk about Gemma.
One thing I have discovered is how to let go of unfeeling and uncaring people. You may remember that my sister completely cut contact with me after Gemma’s service. I had a mini breakdown over it, but a few weeks ago decided enough … I refuse to waste one more minute thinking of her. It was a conscious thing and I feel better for it, I now spend my energy on the people in my life who are caring and understanding. Life is too short to waste any of it on her now!
Kate, have a lovely time skating with Brooke … grandchildren are such a joy. We have Charlie to stay every few weeks and I often look at him and chat to Gemma about how well he is doing! I will upload a photo of him. Jim, I hope you have a nice evening with your friends. Much love to you xxx
It is a lovely read and you explain it all so well. Im 6 years on the 9th December down the road, my Sam died of a brain tumour and I don’t know how to explain this but I’ll try…he came home from Sweden in 2012 where he was living to tell me he had been diagnosed with a brain tumour. We had him for another 4 and a half years and it was really only in the last few weeks that he went downhill suddenly but I feel that for all those years I was grieving inside because I was so frightened of losing him but couldn’t show it so I’m thinking maybe it’s not 6 but 10 years. You are right about people some avoiding you like the plague, there used to be a group of women of 6 I was one of them we all met at playschoo lwith the kids and would as the years went on go out for a meal once a month, Lyn was one of them and she avoided me after Sam passed as she said to Sally and Jean (2 of the others who have stayed right by my side) she couldn’t cope with what had happened to me…really, yet when she was going through breast cancer I stayed right by her side!..Folk are strange,I have never bothered with Lyn since and a cople of times in Asda have seen her and avoided her. They say you can count your true friends on 1 hand, for me never a truer word spoken, Sally Janice Sue Jean and Dee. 5 in all and like you said I would love to have Sam here with me, but I do know he is all around and he leaves little signs for me, when I was 60 in April 2013 he bought me a ginger cat called Marmaduke and whenever I am upset that cat comes from somewhere to jump on my lap and cuddle in to me. I know Sam will be waiting for me, and we will laugh and joke just like we used to do.
Yep I’m with you there about this white poppy don’t understand it, but I do understand the purple one for all the animals that served and died, and for all the men and women that served and died for us.
I hope your friends from Somerset are doing OK and good luck with the ice skating lesson.
Jim, your words are so very very true. I too am 7 years in, still feel as though I’m trying to get through in this new world. I am “coping” “surviving” “existing”, words we are all very familiar with. Things have definitely improved since the “early days” (I would say these were the first 3 years for me) before I could even breath properly again. I too feel we seem to consider other people feelings all the time. You describe it so well. This is another part of this world we are in.
Love Chris x
Hi all your posts keep me going but of late im really lost in this grief .its coming up second xmas without sam .i feel so sad i cant pick my self up a year and half gone . I feel so lonely for sam .i just miss him so this wicked world .what you said victoria .people dont talk about him like its forbidden.even my partner im so angry with the world .your gone just 25 theres no justice. Just sad love zoe xxx
Hi all.
Since my post a few days ago mentioning tip toeing round other people’s feelings, I’ve read the replies. Chris and Helen I’m guessing we are in the same headspace with regards to the grief journey. As the years roll by, it’s not that it has gotten easier , it’s us that have adapted to the situation. It’s a bit like a new skill for a new job, it takes time to settle into. We’ve programmed ourselves to deal with the situation. Chris , you mention the first 3 years, I know exactly what you mean, it was the first 4 for me before I could find my way out of the forest . I don’t profess to be grand master or an expert on grief. But I can certainly tell and feel the changes that have happened to my own personality and who I am as a person. Think I’m a million miles away from who I used to be.
Helen, you said it feels more like 10 years for yourself because you had 4 years were you knew it was coming. I have a distant ex family member who had a daughter born with cystic fibrosis . So they basically knew from day one, they had 22 years to prepare themselves. But it certainly doesn’t make the pain any less, loosing a child hurts under any circumstances.
My Saturday Evening I mentioned some friends coming round for a drink and food. It was yet another sign of how I’ve changed. The couple that came have been friends a long, long time over 40 years. When Sam died they came to his funeral and then I think they moved to Mars or somewhere, either that or they both got plastic surgery to disguise themselves, either way not seen them since the funeral. Anyway over the last few months the husband started sending me the odd txt message, nothing specific, so I thought ok , I offer an olive branch and invite them up. Couple of years ago I couldn’t have done this such was my state of mind.
Anyway they arrived and it was quite funny. They had obviously had a bit of dutch courage before they got here, and the pair of them were a total bag if nerves. We shook hands and hugged but I could tell they were trying to avoid eye contact. Mean while I was sat in the driving seat as regards of how the evening went. I could either give them both a peace of my mind
( WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN FOR THE LAST 7 YEARS). or just let the evening play out and see what happens. I never mentioned Sam or infact how it’s been for me. We had a good evening did a lot of reminiscing but what I found funny. By the end of the night after one or two . The pair of them started crying and saying what horrible friends they had been. I never got emotional once.
The lesson I took from this was,. I went to school with the husband we’ve been through a lot together. But throughout the evening even when they were both crying. I just felt indifferent to them. I enjoyed the evening but the morning after I couldn’t really have cared wether they came or not. The damage had already been done by them abandoning me. Either that , or the fact that the first four years of feeling like the worst dad in history because I lost my son on my watch, but these last few years . I’ve toughened up and don’t let people get under my skin anymore. When you are in a vulnerable state the slightest little remark or someone’s behavior can upset you for months if not years,. But when you have been where we have been and a lot of people still are . You hit the very bottom emotionally. There’s only one way to go when you are at the bottom and that’s slowly back up.
Zoe, you are having a really bad time, it’s still very raw and early days. You are rite Christmas is round the corner, wether we like to admit it or not it’s a big event and to have an empty chair at the dinner table is truly heart breaking. I’m sure Chris and Helen and everyone else who has gotten a few years under their belts will tell you, it is always going to be upsetting forever. But you will adapt. I no you miss Sam dearly. But you will get to a better place mentally, I no you don’t see that now. But that’s exactly how I and everyone else has felt. Sam will be part of your life till they day you die, nothing will ever change that. But you will definitely reach a better place than you are at the moment
Ok thanks for listening
Take care
Jim
Hi Zoe I feel the same, sometimes I just feel swallowed up by it all. The Christmas advertisements on TV are such a trigger as well each time I hear them, and you just can’t get away from them now. Will this our 2nd Christmas be any easier than our 1st ? The empty chair, the empty space that should be filled by our loved one as it was in happy times ? I can’t see how, we are still so broken.
I can’t get used to how it feels my whole reality has changed , still trying to find the old reality , just some part of my old world I can recognise, can’t adjust to this one somehow. It’s like a bad dream I am trying to wake up from.
Still there are the encouraging words from Jim10 (thanks Jim) that it will get better in some ways eventually , we just have to hang on in there, nothing else we can do. Slow breaths, one step at a time. Thinking of you .
Sending love and hugs Jess xx
Yet again nail on the head, like you said about the couple that came to dinner, they realised what kind of people they were, and I can totally understand your indifference to them. That is how I feel towards Lyn,I too feel completely indifferent to her if I saw her I would not even acknowledge her just turn away.
Zoe, it is so early so raw for you, I remember Sam died on Friday 9th December so I put up the tree and we all had Christmas dinner on the Monday before, and I can remember thinking to myself I can’t do this anymore but I battened down the hatches and tried. Yet even now I cannot write Christmas cards and I try with the help of my friend Janice and Sally to buy Christmas presents rather than send off for a load of vouchers and get Jan or Sally to write them which up until last year was what I did, and that was 5 years then. All of our children would expect us to try 100%, I know my Sam will be watching and he has left so many signs for me, try to look for signs from Sam they will be there, and talk out loud to him I do and Jim does it does help you.
Dear Friends,
Have been keeping up with all your posts and even though I haven’t felt like posting I press on the heart to let you know I’m here and thinking of you all. Its been a difficult few days for us with rembrance but its nice to know how much.Matt was loved and his memory will live on we visited the school for a little service on Friday as this is where Matt’s bench is, one of the children wrote us a note telling us how every morning he walks past the bench a salutes and says that Matt has inspired him to become a soldier in the Army, has us in tears bless him. I am 3 and half years into this journey and I recently have started actually having a bit of interest in things where as previously I wasn’t interested in much at all I feel I have moved a little further along, I don’t feel such impending doom all the time, I didn’t really care if I drove into a brick wall or that I didn’t want to wake in the morning but now I don’t have these feelings, dong get me wrong I am still completely broken and have bad days but no where near as bad as before. For those of you who are still in this awful black hole please know that like everyone has said it will get more manageable and you will have better days and you will also feel guilty at first that you are coping but that’s a normal feeling too, so keep the faith and keep taking baby steps and know we are all with you,
Dear Victoria,
Lovely photo of Charlie, he has a lovely smile and a sort of calmness about him, I am sure Gemma is so proud and happy
that he gets to spend time with you I am so glad you have washed your hands of your sister, I struggle to understand how anyone could be so cruel especially your own sister,
Love and hugs to you lovely lady
Michelle xxxx
Dear Kate,
I hope you have a lovely time with your friends, my heart goes out to them for the loss of their dear nephew please pass on my love and know that he will never be forgotten. Matt was also 22 and he was also repatriated back to Brize Norton and tov watch that plane land and then all his brothers carrying the coffin off the plane was well there are no words to describe it its a bit of blur its like we had to go through two funerals.
Much love to you my friend
Michelle xxxx
Love to you too. Yes we are enjoying their company. Bridget went with her son to the memorial on Sunday she said. All those lives from the wars and more recently in active service.
I know what you mean about it being a blur. I don’t know how any of us got through the funerals let alone what you have been through.
Sending love and strength to you and all friends here.
Dear Michelle, Matt’s grave looks so beautiful and such an amazing tribute to him, your lovely boy. I am sure he looks down on it and is proud of you. I’ll never forget how brave you were during the inquest. I’m not sure I could have coped so well … lots of love to you all
Dear friend, its true how differently people react. As you say, a complete stranger can offer a shoulder to cry on when our fr.iends don’t know what to say or do.
I remember being in Asda in Aberdeen pushing the trolly round the clothes section. I needed some more clothes but just wanted cheap stuff as I had plenty at home. I was in a state of pure terror as at that point Lisa was still in an induced coma. The shock of seeing her with all the tubes and breathing apparatus was stuck in my head. The tears were rolling down my cheeks as I walked and a lady left her trolley and came over to me. She just put her hand over mine and gently stroked my shoulder with tbe other. She had such compassion in her eyes. It was just for a few seconds and then she went back to her trolly. She could see my pain that’s for sure.
Hope you have a good day with kindness around you.
What a lovely story Kate. It is those random acts of kindness that I suppose make a difference. I know what you mean about close friends often not knowing what to say. It will be 5 weeks tomorrow since my son Joey died, and although the messages and calls still come, they are much less frequent. People expect me to be coming out from under my mantle of grief, but I can’t. Yesterday a friend texted to ask if my husband and I were out walking in the vineyards again and looking forward to the ski season (I live in Switzerland). And people are afraid to say the wrong thing so they say nothing. But this morning I got ever such a sweet message from a close friend of my son’s. She and her husband were always there for Joey, throughout his long painful cancer journey. I didn’t know them well before, but Audrey texts me every other day - several long messages - just to see how I am and to say they want us to come over whenever we want, for a nice meal. Joey adored their two little boys and they him, but I just can’t muster up the energy to do anything. I feel totally useless.
I can’t even get out of bed! Except for a few doctors visits I’ve been in bed with terrible bronchitis for three weeks now. They say grief increases inflammation and batters the immune system. That’s exactly what happened. It left me totally depleted and wide open to infection. That hasn’t helped the emotional side either. Yet even if I were healthy, no, I’m not looking forward to anything these days. How could I possibly??? All the things I used to love, being in nature, skiing, hiking, travelling. None of it has any interest for me at all.
I don’t always look at the Sue Ryder site. As much as we’re all in an exclusive club and no one needs to explain anything to anyone else about our sorrow, and as much as the feeling of support is genuine, I also find it so very sad! I’m a relative newcomer with my son having died so recently, but there are so many people who were at the stage I’m at now years ago, yet they are still suffering, still haven’t got their lives back. It all seems so depressing, so futile.
Hi Kate - Lisa’s mum. I scrolled through some of your posts from when you first joined Sue Ryder, not long after your beloved daughter died. Something you said rang a chord with me - that you missed the worrying and the elation when Lisa had hospital appointments etc. I can so identify with that!
My son’s cancer journey lasted 16 months, ever since June 2021… He had metastatic testicular cancer. He was single at the time and I ferried him about to most of his hospital/doctor appointments. Although the fall of ‘21 after his orchiectomy and subsequent chemo was not so bad, as of January this year he got more and more complications as the cancer stopped reacting to treatment and he needed stronger and stronger chemo and operations. He eventually had an autologous stem cell transplant and was in hospital for 50 days, a week of it in an induced coma like your daughter. Then he made it out in July and we were hopeful. I always dreaded the hospital appointments, which he had a lot of, but tried to remain positive, as difficult as that was. In his darkest times he’d call me at 2 or 3 or 4 in the morning, and I was always there for him. I slept with my cellphone under my pillow.
His last two weeks were in hospital again, but I was there every day, from morning till night, like his brother and dad, only leaving him when he wanted some privacy with his friends, who came in droves. The last days we’d even wheel him into the hospital park for impromptu “garden parties” , along with his fentanyl IV stand… I was with him in the ambulance several times too when they took him for tests in other hospitals… It was my life for so long!
But then he died and I don’t seem to have a reason for anything anymore. I wake up constantly throughout the night with a heavy heart but he’s not there to worry about anymore. I think that’s what you were saying.
You are fortunate to have a reason to go on - your granddaughter (and perhaps other grandchildren?). How I wish that were the case with me, but Joey had no children, nor does my elder son Kevin. And that makes my heartache even worse.
It’s been three years since your Lisa died. Obviously your life will never be the same. But do you have moments of happiness? Have you been able to “get on” with your life, whatever that means and however possible that is?
My daughter died in January. The first few months I don’t know how I kept on breathing. The very people I thought would support me, in the main, were more interested in how best to be emotionally distant. That hurt. I’ve now got a Grief Companion from Compassionate Friends who really have been wonderful and I also started counselling a couple of months ago. Those 2 things have given me the support I need to navigate the new life, without my daughter. I do sometimes laugh, but more often I cry. It really is a comfort to find some respite from the pain. It started as just moments when I focussed on something else and I’m building on that. All of us on here will carry the pain and loss forever but we can, slowly slowly learn to be kinder to ourselves, we are going through the worst kind of pain. I read somewhere that it’s like our hearts are filled with grief and loss that won’t disappear, but we can grow our hearts bigger so that we still keep their loss inside us and it won’t grow smaller but we can make some space to live our lives again. I suppose it’s hope that we can survive and that our lives can still, over time, become meaningful again. Not the same as it was before but better than 24/7 grief. Xxxxxx
. The pair of them started crying and saying what horrible friends they had been. I never got emotional once.
to let you know I’m here and thinking of you all. Its been a difficult few days for us with rembrance but its nice to know how much.Matt was loved and his memory will live on 
we visited the school for a little service on Friday as this is where Matt’s bench is, one of the children wrote us a note telling us how every morning he walks past the bench a salutes and says that Matt has inspired him to become a soldier in the Army, has us in tears bless him. I am 3 and half years into this journey and I recently have started actually having a bit of interest in things where as previously I wasn’t interested in much at all I feel I have moved a little further along, I don’t feel such impending doom all the time, I didn’t really care if I drove into a brick wall or that I didn’t want to wake in the morning but now I don’t have these feelings, dong get me wrong I am still completely broken and have bad days but no where near as bad as before. For those of you who are still in this awful black hole please know that like everyone has said it will get more manageable and you will have better days and you will also feel guilty at first that you are coping but that’s a normal feeling too, so keep the faith and keep taking baby steps and know we are all with you, 
It is those random acts of kindness that I suppose make a difference. I know what you mean about close friends often not knowing what to say. It will be 5 weeks tomorrow since my son Joey died, and although the messages and calls still come, they are much less frequent. People expect me to be coming out from under my mantle of grief, but I can’t. Yesterday a friend texted to ask if my husband and I were out walking in the vineyards again and looking forward to the ski season (I live in Switzerland). And people are afraid to say the wrong thing so they say nothing. But this morning I got ever such a sweet message from a close friend of my son’s. She and her husband were always there for Joey, throughout his long painful cancer journey. I didn’t know them well before, but Audrey texts me every other day - several long messages - just to see how I am and to say they want us to come over whenever we want, for a nice meal. Joey adored their two little boys and they him, but I just can’t muster up the energy to do anything. I feel totally useless.