As I travel to be with my friends for the weekend I prepare myself for the inevitable feeling of loss. When I am away from my nest it heightens the feeling of despair of not having Thisy physically with us. As my fear deepens I realise that for a while now I have been scared. I am scared of forgetting what Thi looked like. I am scared of forgetting what he felt like. As I watch the boys grow and flourish I then am scared to think they too may feel the same way. However, in a more rational moment I know that children are far more black and white and accepting. Far more accepting than the adult brain! So I suppose its about finding a way to ease those scared moments. For me it has to be giving myself time. Something I am not good at. Time to sit think and feel. Time to meditate and be close. Time to focus on my love for Thi instead of accepting our love just is! To help me I decided to focus on the deal Thi and I had before he died. I am half way through my promise to Thi. These next few months are going to be focused to achieve our goal. Half way is not good enough there is only one way..... All the way. A deals a deal! As it turned out our weekend away was absolutely wonderful and maybe I had prepared myself to feel the loss and accepted that I would feel some pain. This whole journey and new life is all about acceptance. One morning we were chatting reliving the past years. Tony was talking about how he has finally reached a stage where he can wake up without being heart broken. We discussed how my pain is different to Tony and as life pushes us through the days events I worry more. As months and years move away from the day we kissed him goodbye I panic that I may forget. Rational and emotional clash yet again. We talk about the pointless what ifs. Pointless because we did all we could but there are two what ifs. What if the ineffectual hospital system and general consultant saw us as a real case before 6 weeks were gone. We unfortunately at Thisy’s death realised just how quick that tumour grew. Daily. If he had sent us on the right path would the outcome have been different. What if we had operated, although mutilating at the first stages. Fought against the consultants? Then I think about whether Thi would have coped in a mutilated state? What ifs are a useless waste of space and time yet still you can't ignore them. It was a painfully lovely morning talking about Thi with tony. Talking about how it still seems like yesterday, how we think of him as 12, even though we never knew him at 12, his maturity, his loveliness, his argumentative almost adult behaviour. Did he have those very adult characteristics so early because there was to be an early end? Then I reflect and wonder why Thi and I used to talk about death quite a lot when he was a young boy. Was it preparation? A few weeks ago I visited a friend at the Marsden. They started out on the same journey as us just weeks after Thisy’s first chemo, also with their eldest son. They too were about to embark on the beginning of the end. We sat and held each other talking about how Matthias’ death was for us, what we did to make it as perfect as possible. The intensity to get it right is more than you can bare. I didn’t realise I had an intense need to share our experience so that other people feel fulfilled at their child's death. We only get one chance at perfection. Once I knew they were all lying in the same beds I was happy. For me there was an immense need to be in the same bed as Matthias and for anyone of the family to come in and see us. A surreal experience you may feel but in fact it felt perfectly natural. It was here that I realised this was the completion and full circle of life. So often I was asked when I thought Matthias was going to die and with a little frustration I could only relate it to labour and the beginning. When you are in labour you don’t know how long its going to be it can be long and arduous or exceedingly quick and shocking. Once the birth has happened you and your child are in bed together holding your new bundle, bonding, loving and simply being together. The circle of life is no different at the end. You don’t know how long it will take for the death to take place it can a long time or it can be a shock and when it does occur to be in bed together is safe for both child and parent and complete, loving, holding onto those last moments. Holding on to the touch, the smell and looking so very carefully so as to photograph everything in your heart and brain. Moments you don’t want to loose. At our friends sons funeral his Dad talked about how they were struggling to remember their child before cancer. That triggered a realisation within me. That it takes time, many years to get to a point of remembering your child without cancer. I vividly remember thinking about Thisy a year and a half ago and all I could see was him in chase or in hospital or worse still in pain and discomfort where we were so desperately clinging on to being able to manage at home. As the year has moved on I slowly release those memories and now I visualise my boy when we returned from America and we all thought he was cured. We saw his big curly locks and watched him mature for four short months. I still flash back to the end as it is the circle of life and therefore very much part of all we know and love bout Thisy. However, I believe in time I will rewind our time and eventually I will get to a well carefree remembering where nothing was sad. Not really sad like it is now. This will no doubt take many years for me to get to the stage of remembering Thi as a well child before cancer took hold of our lives and threw us in the air, if not as a baby. How lovely that would be to remember the 18 month old child who was such a joy and pleasure to have and to be around. So beautiful and such fun. Pictures and video footage will help whilst tearing us apart at the same time no doubt. As the academic year draws to a close I see the years flying before me and I am not comforted. At the moment I am not comfortable with time taking me away from the day we kissed Thisy goodbye. It’s really quite frightening. There are moments of sadness as I see his friends go into year 8 and I think about what report Matthias would have had. What would his favourite subject be and what would he have ended up being? If only his life hadn’t been taken away. As Xavier shares his leavers assembly I sit in awe of what he has come through and my emotion is nothing to do with leaving and moving on its about praying and hoping that my other children will reach beyond the age of 10. I wish I could visualize my children in teenage years like I used when Thi was alive but sadly my trust in the world has been knocked and I guess I will just have to wait and see as I find it impossible to go beyond what we are now. On a more positive note as Jos would always say I have reflected on my time in my school. I have noted a strength. As the year has progressed I have learned to allow myself to fall and accepted that some things just rock the boat. With acceptance comes strength. However, I wonder will I ever truly accept and understand why Thi had to be taken from us too early. I do know that I will never be scared of dying as I am sure I will see him again one day. I don’t think the boys will be scared to die either. Xav said he had a dream the other day. Where he met Thi again in heaven and when Thi saw Xav he ran towards him and knocked him over as he was hugging him so hard. Wonderful that he could share that with me. If only Thi would knock me over with a huge hug if only in a dream. The power of touch. Unbearable at times when you are deprived of it. Always and Forever Thisy. x Posted on July 23, 2013