My darling. First thing this morning, as I sat in the bath, I thought of the quietness with our Xavier on his school, overnight trip. Even though with daddy he still suffered anxiety in the night. He struggles to leave me. I am sure all the times you and I had to go off for treatment has left a mark on him. I sat in the bath alone, a rare thing, and remembered the date. This day 5 whole years ago was when we first discovered the lump. I can't help but feel let down. For me, it took too long to get you seen by the correct consultant. Pushed from one Locum, to A&E, to consultant, to London hospital and finally back to St. Peter's where we were finally seen by Dr Bahti, who told us we had to go to the Royal Marsden. Our life fell tumbling to the floor in those few words, whilst we tried to be brave and sensible not to frighten you. I am angry at the 6 weeks I spent crying and fighting, fighting like I have never fought before. I promise you Thisy I tried more than my life to get you to be seen by the correct people. I will always wonder if only you were seen earlier would you still be with us? I know my lovely, life can't be lived on if's and buts and we have to deal with what we have been given but I know how fast that tumour grew and those weeks could have been crucial. The feeling is deep-pitted sickness and it will never truly leave me when I think of those helpless weeks. My darling boy, you must have been petrified. I close my wet eyes and I can see you looking at me with fear in your eyes. As my day progressed I knew I was in for a fall somewhere along the line. I was feeling fragile again and wasn't surprised that I fell during the Good Friday assembly at my school. Playing ‘you raise me up’ at the point of crucifixion was like a knife turning inside me. Remembering my times in Chase looking through pictures of you on my phone to that very song. You really do raise me up. I continue to be as strong as I can because I have to be, but also because I am so proud to call you mine. You are the greatest gift ever given to me. As we embark on our holidays with the cousins I think of all the times you cherished being as a complete family. Family life was all you ever dreamed of. I will never forget when I told you that you would have a shortened life. Your eyes pierced mine with fear with lack of understanding and said " but all I want is a wife, a home, a family and a car" inside I crumpled. You were a 10 year old who was far beyond his years. How I wished I had never bought you up believing you only die when you are an old man. It was wrong of me and for that I let you down. For us then that was the norm. Through you Thi I have learnt to speak differently to your brothers. Using words like normally and hope. This holiday I have missed you so much. The sun shining on the boys playing football and there is still a black hole, an emptiness that will never be filled. Jos reminds me in so many ways of you. He runs exactly the same way on the pitch as you did. Seeing elements of you in your bothers is the greatest feeling on earth. You really do live in them in many ways. Today we have visited the cousins and I know how you would have relished the opportunity to be with everyone again. Maybe you were with us without us truly knowing. We were talking about Jos going to Winston and whether he had any worries. He spoke of the size of the school, which, I think any new child would be anxious about and he talked about bullying, which I do believe and pray Jos will have very little to worry about that and his final words were “It would be ok if my brother was there.” We all felt his pain and reassured him that all your year 10 friends would be looking out for Jos in particular because of you. Winston have been excellent support already and I do believe he will lead the path for the other boys proudly. Grief really does hit me in peaks and troughs. Today I have been to have a most relaxing lava shell massage. During the massage I decided I needed to spend some time with you. So I bought some lunch and decided to sit beside your grave and this is where I am writing these words. I don't usually find comfort here as I know you are with us always, yet today I lie next to you with the sun beating down and allow myself time to remember. I try to remember the good days when cancer and treatment hadn't taken over our lives. But I still struggle. I so wish I could leave those painful times behind. I do believe that one day I will, one day....... Yesterday, as I was going around my day-to-day activities I noticed your pictures had been changed. I knew then that someone in the house was missing you. On questioning I realise it was Xav. I questioned him, “Are you scared you’re going to forget him?” His little eyes looked into mine. “Yes mummy.” “So am I, adults feel that too babes.” I replied. “It's perfectly normal.” His face relaxed and I could see an element of relief but I knew that there was more to come from this broken little man. We carried on with our day-to-day activities, as if our conversation was the norm. For us now it is our norm. I wonder if that is why I am able to lie beside you now writing to you. Somehow, allowing that normal to be something else just for a while. Today, I miss you more than yesterday or the day before that. I think the missing gets stronger as time moves on without you physically with us. But, as I lie here there is a glorious peace. School children having a PE lesson in the field next door, Year 1 children, your Jonas' age. The church bell chimes. Giggling children, people in and out. It soothes me to know there is a village life around you. Leaving your graveside left me with a huge emotion. As I left I had a greater sense of you being with me. It was so strong that I held myself back from stretching out my arm to place it around your shoulders. It was an emotion that consumed my whole body, strange yet comforting. Then I was left without you again, yet still I relish that short moment of closeness, if only for a few seconds. My darling, I knew Xav had unfinished emotions and maybe quietly me too. Tonight Xav misbehaved quite badly and was reprimanded, and then he crashed. Holding your pictures he sobbed. We cuddled and looked through the pictures of you and leapt into Thisy memory tennis. I started with the time you and your brothers played with water bombs and then Xav joined in with some Wittering memories. He loved, he cried, he sobbed at his excruciating pain and then he laughed and above all he learnt that this was purely a sign of his eternal love for you. Before I sign off my darling boy I need to tell you about something that happened today. I was knocked sideways. On our walk home from school you will never guess who I bumped into? Well you probably do know!….. Harry wade, one of your friends. He is tall and thin, deep in voice and gorgeous to talk to. I love talking to your friends and being just a tiny part of their lives. It helps me to try and know what you could be like now as a tall 14 year old. As I saw Harry, I desperately wanted to give him a hug. You will be pleased to know, I refrained, as I am sure that would have been too uncool and slightly strange for him. I just wanted to feel what it was like to hug a 14 year old. I went to bed to crash. I imagined you in my arms and I snuggled, like a child, the scarf that lay by your side when you were in Chase, with my perfume on it so you knew I was always with you and as I tried to sleep tears rolled onto my pillow. I prayed that I would dream of you………A moment alone with you……. Just you and me. My darling Thisy, Thank you for your love, laughter and courage. God bless you we love you always and forever. X Lots of love Darling boy I love you Mummy x