Feelings

It’s a difficult time for the closest of families when they lose someone very dear to them, how on earth families who aren’t close cope I don’t know, maybe its easier if you aren’t close. Maybe if you haven’t been in close contact for ages you might feel a bit disconnected and therefore hurt less, who knows. We’re close but now the initial shock of losing Chris is wearing off things are not as I thought they would be, we each have our own world which we are dealing with in our own ways, we all had a unique relationship with Chris so although we all grieve, we do it in our own way and that in itself can feel very isolating.

Things that we dealt with no problem in the past can become major setbacks, and a random outburst of anger or crying is less easy to deal with now because emotionally we’re floored and have no reserves like we had in the past.

As I’ve said before, its never going to be easy but its doable, just takes time and you can’t rush that……unfortunately.

Massive sigh !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Plums

I've talked to a number of parents who have lost their kids, they vary in age and in the circumstances they had to say goodbye to them, some of them have told me they've had signs. I've been waiting....and rather hoping I would get one.

Now then, I was driving to tesco's on Wednesday morning, I approached the traffic lights, which were on red and sat back as these one's take ages to change. Into my mind sprang a picture of Chris 'pick me nan a bag of plums' he said, I said 'I will', 'when' he said, 'tomorrow' I replied...'yeah yeah', by this time I was glancing round to see if the other motorists had noticed I was having a conversation with my rear view mirror. 'shut it you, I'm too busy today I'll pick them tomorrow' I continued. He smirked and the lights went to green. Was that a sign? Who knows, needless to say I was at my mums at 9am next morning with a massive bag of plums. Some would say its the subconcious kicking in because Chris always insisted his nan got the first delivery of plums from our tree each year.....it made me smile loads on the way to tesco's and back and has continued to amuse me ever since, so it doesn't really matter whether its a sign or not, I can now picture him and smile......thats progress.

A letter to my lovely son

The need to talk to Chris has become overwhelming, so I thought the next best thing was to write a letter to him, apparently its not unusual, it says so on my list.

Hey babe,

The need to talk to you has become overwhelming so I thought it might be a good idea to write you a letter. It doesn’t seem like year ago that you got your call for transplant, does it, it was the 19th of August last year and we were down at the carphone warehouse me and you, because you wanted that white chocolate phone. It was 5 pm when they rang you from Wythenshawe, I remember it like yesterday, not a year ago, you were as cool, calm and collected as if the call had been one of your mates arranging a night out.

What a year, it’s a good job we can’t see into the future because I’d have opted out of this one that’s for sure, or would I? No, of course I wouldn’t, because during this last year I saw you at your happiest and I’ll always be glad of that. My mental picture of you now is a big healthy smiley face, planning the next wind up, I’d have to try hard to form a mental picture of you looking poorly, that’s good isn’t it.



I miss you so much Chris, I cry every single day but I smile every single day too, ‘sad’ doesn’t even come close to how me dad and Mike feel, there’s a huge gap in our lives and we yearn for it to be filled, but know that it wont ever be. Its so hard to carry on our lives without you, we go through the motions but it just isn’t the same, it never will be, but we’re strong and very close, just as you said in the message you left for us, so we’ll get there.



The plum tree has so much fruit on it this year…remember when you bit into that one and found half a grub, you were so disgusted you never touched another one from then on and your willow is doing mega well, I remembered what you said and have let the grass grow right up to the trunk, so we can lie under it on very hot days. Rodney is a cow and a half, just like you trained her to be, she terrorises Mitzy and Winnie and destroys everything in her path…you loved that kitten and insisted we adopted her, it was just before Christmas last year when she turned up at our door. She was knocking on it with her paw and you said we had to let her in because she had the courage to ‘dare’ to come to a strange house, ‘he who dares Rodders’ ‘he who dares’ and yep we let her in…glad we did now and also glad you took the notice out of the local shops the day after I put it in.

Mike’s moved into your room, he said it felt right and I think you’d agree, his room is a hovel and he now tells people ‘that was our Chris’s room’ he says you wouldn’t expect any less of him….cheeky git.

I finally got round to listening to those three songs you mailed me just before you went to Wales with the lads, flippin heck it was a mission listening to them, its uncanny how appropriate the words are now, its sad but also a bit special to have something so personal.

People say you’re in a better place, I hear the words, but think the very best place you could be is here with us where you belong, because we love you and miss you so much.Its been good to talk babe, I’ll write again soon.

Love mum. xxx