Dear Thisy As I hear of yet another case of someone having to say goodbye to her friend all too early I thank you, because of you I can be of some help. If nothing else the pain and anguish that we have had and will continue to have forever has proven to be of some help to other people and for that I am so very grateful and relieved that some positivity has come out our deep sadness. As I reflect on other peoples sorry and sadness I am able to allow myself time to contemplate on all that I have. It is such a flip coin. In the one breath I am so very grateful that I had the opportunity to have known and loved you for 10 years. I am grateful that I have three other gorgeous boys to get me through the lonely and harder times and yet I am still sad and desperate that I have not got you Thisy physically in my arms. The other day I was silently pining for you to be in my arms. It was the boys’ bedtime and I was giving myself some ‘me’ time. Time to think and contemplate on a picture of you and your beautiful brothers. In the picture Jonas was about 3 months old, Xav was looking his usual cheeky self, Jos snuggled into your arms with Jonas on his lap and you king of the boys looking on in love with your brothers. As the pain ran deeper and deeper I must have become quiet and withdrawn as Xavier, who was busy with his match attax jumped up out of nowhere and threw his arm around me and said. "You alright?" and then he turned his head to look straight into my eyes and repeated “Are you ok?’ Oh my, that hypersensitive boy is so in tune with my very needs without questioning. He nestled into me. I said nothing more than 'I love you babs ' and he leapt up and carried on with his match attax. That intuition, love and sensitivity was more than I could have asked for to lighten my load. You should be very proud of your brothers because without fail they come to my rescue uncalled for just because they know. Maybe you guide them and I pray you do darling. I like to think you do and are still very much involved in their actions. There have been some crazy moments this month my darling. One of which is where I have been asked questions for an article about bereavement at Christmas. One question for me to cogitate over was ‘Do you feel envious of others at Christmas?' quite easily I answered never envious. Envy is never something I have ever felt since you died. I couldn’t quite work out whether that was a crazy question or not. Maybe that is something I will address later. Also I have been working hard to process whether my sadness is greater as we approach your anniversary of death. My immediate response to ‘Am I worse at this point of year?’ is quite simply no as It is the same pain throughout the year and all the time, never just at your anniversary. Or at least I thought I wasn't worse this time of year. It seems in the last few days I have felt the pain of not having you physically in my arms so heavily, deep sadness and painful emptiness. So am I naive thinking that its no different as we approach the time of year when you slowly said goodbye? and maybe just maybe I am in a worse place, maybe I am actually suffering more than the rest of the year. I recognise that this is just a learning curve of acceptance and that each year brings more levels of acceptance. At the moment I seem to be constantly looking at pictures of you darling and I swim into your eyes, deep into your soul and then I am left so sad and lost. Maybe I am beginning to acknowledge that it is more painful at this time of year. My strength is weakened at these given moments. Other peoples sadness around me quite rightly makes me crumble. Maybe I need to crumble, crumble properly. Am I holding back? Maybe I need to let it scream and shout and let it out, so I can continue to carry you more comfortably. Watch this space Thisy. I feel it's brewing! I write as things occur to me throughout the month and as I came to my writing today it made me smile straight from within. Today has been hard for many reasons. As I read the last paragraph I realise how close to the crumble I was! It's been brewing for all of us. As you know darling I accept the crumble and allow it to happen so that I can pick myself up and move on. I look at pictures on the wall of you and the boys and it just sends me into emotional turmoil. Im not necessarily crying, but inside is a churning heart. It's like my heart has been put in a washing machine and every now and then it gets mangled in the cogs and then spat out. There is nothing that can stop this washing machine. I have to live with it and try as hard as I can to go with it. I know the fast spin we are on at the moment will eventually change to an easy care cycle but right now we are on full spin. It hurts. The problem is, I can't take away the crumbling for anyone else especially Daddy and that is incredibly difficult because I hate to think that other people are suffering. I have to just sit back and allow Daddy to do what he needs to do when he needs to do it. My darling, today has been a milestone in our lives. Jos is now older than you ever reached. It scares me to think he will be walking a brand new path, one where you were unable to tread and show us all the way. Daddy and I can't stop flashing back to those last days in Chase with you. It's so painful to relive those days, unknowingly to us, just three days left with you. If I had known I only had three days I would have lay next to you, held you, smelt you and not moved. Not that I regret our last days because it was perfect being all together and able to be near. It's just the pain of not being able to touch you anymore surpasses everything. And even if I had spent those last precious three days lying next to you I would still feel this pain. Besides which you would have got sick of me and no doubt demanded some space! Today I relive and remember Steven Gerrard coming to see you. I couldn't bear the fact that at first you didn't know that he was there. Then our completion came when Steven spoke again to you and you smiled a smile that will never leave my mind, heart and soul. That smile was completion and not letting go of Steven’s hand was the true beginning of us accepting our goodbye to you. Daddy and I lay in bed holding hands today talking through our days three years ago, pain, disbelief and grief. Tears rolling slowly down my cheeks as we spoke quietly of your incredible bravery and acceptance. I don't know how you were able to say goodbye to your mummy and daddy and brothers so eloquently, peacefully and calmly. As our pain gets all too painful, your brother comes to the rescue without any guidance from us, just instinctively. Jos isn't the cuddliest of boys, yet he slam dunked himself in the middle of us then jumped on me for a cuddle, a cuddle in my arms like a baby. It's been a longtime since he cuddled like that then proceeded to stay on me to watch tv and that is where he has stayed whilst I write this. Stroking his hair, feeling him close, easing my writing. Thank you Thi for showing him the path to tread. As we move to the day before you died and the anniversary of the day you died I can’t help but relive those horrendous hours. I close my eyes and I still see you and if I close them tight enough I can almost feel you. As a mummy my only worry is that you were calm and comfortable with dying. From the outside looking on you seemed fine but by the time you finally said goodbye I could only presume your peace. I would hate to think that you were frightened. As I think about this anxiously I recall the words of the wonderful Deryn who I followed on Twitter and have become close to. Deryn was close to dying and quite simply he was given a miracle. He slowly regained his strength and the cancer went. At first he was gutted, a strange emotion to feel when you have been given life as opposed to death. He said “It was like someone had slammed a door in my face” that to me suggests that heaven is somewhere you really want to go. Free from pain and medicine. Free from suffering. I so so pray this is true, and that you really were happy to go. To go through the open door. I just can’t begin to contemplate how a 10 year old can accept and want to leave his Mummy, Daddy and brothers. You are my inspiration darling, my strength, my life, my soul. I will keep your flame burning forever darling and you will light our way always. The boys have just opened your Thi day presents and they are thrilled. Each boy wearing a bright pair of goalie gloves, even Jonas! You would be so proud of them Thi, they have been excited about your day. Jos said its great to have a present from Thi, to be able to think about him and to be with the whole family. Xav and Jonas also bought a present into daddy and I to open. How lovely to all share your day so positively and with an enormous amount of Barker love. I promised you we would be ok darling and we are doing our very best to be ok. It will never take away the pain but we will do everything in our power to allow the boys to love and live life to the full with you constantly by their side. I love you always and forever Mummy xxxx