At least I can listen to music now - 6 September 2007

So long since I wrote, but at least l can listen to music now. Before there was always the danger of it tipping things over the edge. Sending you down into the depths. So better to avoid it, better not to listen. Better to stay safe and calm. The issue was not the type of music. Not only just the sombre tunes but also those that triggered memories. Memories of a life gone by. Lives gone by. The memories haven't gone. The memories are the same, It just seems possible now not to take a big fall. More just a stumble. But a stumble is worth the memory. So now I can listen. Listen and remember. Even the track that was playing as we left the road that fateful day. And I will always remember my wonderful boys.

Is there life after death? - 14 December 2005

And do I care?

Eight weeks and three days ago it didn’t bother me. My view was if there is life after death how exciting, how wonderful, how enlightening; if not … well I won’t be ‘there’ to worry about it; so who cares – if there is, there is, and if there isn’t, .

So do I care? Well I didn’t, until the 16^th October at around 17:56; which is when my two lovely boys were killed. So now I ponder, not about my future existence, but about theirs. They certainly live on in the hearts and minds of so many people. However, do they live on in some other way as well?

I am not religious and I have trouble understanding the religious view that there is a higher purpose as to why my boys have died so young, when they had so much to live for.

However, even outside of a religious context one can still pose the question of life after death. The scientist in me would like proof – I’m sceptical, but open minded of such things – there are so many things we do not yet understand or comprehend. So now when I hear someone has been in contact with the boys … my boys, what should I do?

One thing I do know is that, regardless of whether there is life after death, you should still live each day to the full, because yes, it could be your last; and why waste what precious time you have on this mortal earth.

As to whether there is life after death …

I sit here; stare at their picture and wonder.

Selfish? - 15 November 2005

The path stretches out ahead of me along the ridge. To each side the land drops away steeply into the swirling mist and fog. I pause … thankful to be out of the fog.

The sun is up above and although there is a chill breeze I can feel it’s warmth on my face.

Up ahead the path disappears over a ridge – I have no way of knowing whether it continues in the sunlight or plunges back down into the dark forbidding fog. I slowly take careful steps forward. The path is very uneven and strewn with loose rocks, willing me to stumble and fall, threatening me with the fathomless unknown each side.

I stop once more – I feel guilty for enjoying the sun when others are lost in the fog below. I want to forget where I have come from; I want to escape; I want to stay there with the warmth on my face – is that selfish of me?

When it gets worse - 7 November 2005

Yesterday evening it got a lot worse.

It’s worse when I start letting myself believe the truth of what has happened.

I feel alone and totally helpless - exposed, vulnerable. It gets so painful simply knowing there is nothing at all I can do to change what has happened.

It’s the same feeling I had when I was first told at the hospital.

It’s wanting to do something more than anything else ever in my life, whilst knowing I can’t.

The Fog - 4 November 2005

There is a fog all around, obscuring the road. I cannot see the road ahead – I cannot tell what awaits me on my journey; I do not know what I will find on the road; I do not even know my destination or the direction I travel. I only know I must move on … but for the moment it is not possible. The way ahead is too obscure to even tread slowly. I stand still, only seeing the ground at my feet … wondering.

I cannot see behind, but I remember the path I have taken. I remember all of the forks in the road; all of the decisions I’ve made. I wonder if I had made different choices, would I now be striding forward under blue skies and sunshine, instead of standing here still in the swirling mist. I want to go back along the road – I want to take another route, but the fog won’t let me. I am trapped in the present and I feel all alone. I so long to be back with them once more - back in the sunshine.

I know my journey will and must continue, however, for the moment, I cannot see how. I can only see the fog and only have my memories to comfort me.

A dream - 2 November 2005

I had a dream last night; I’m never good at remembering dreams and can’t remember all of the detail of this one. However, I was in an airport or a station, although the location doesn’t really matter. There was a girl, about 12 or 13 – she was in a very distressed state. Something tragic had evidently happened, but what it was I do not know. A man came to her – he looked a little sinister; long black leather coat, long unkempt hair. But he spoke to her in a gentle voice and one which conveyed total trust and truth. He explained that there had been a mistake; she wasn’t meant to have existed at all. He could change things back to how they should have been – take away the pain she was going through.

I can’t remember her response, but later, in my head, the same choice is given to me and my two lovely boys – again he speaks softly and with total trust and truthfulness. He says he can make things right – he says he can change it so that the boys never existed. They need never have suffered in the accident. No one else would need to have suffered loss and sadness at their sudden departure. Their answer is the same as mine, that although their lives were short, there is nothing that would make them give up the joy and happiness that they had and that they brought to others.

The loss I feel is only surpassed by the love I had for them.

My words for Kieran and Milo - 31 October 2005

It’s hard to think how mere words can convey how much I adored you, my lovely boys; and harder still to comprehend life without you.

So many things remind me of our times together: places we went; things we laughed at; games we played together.

I still play the game in the car and I can still hear you spotting yellow convertible minis quicker than me.

I remember standing on the footbridge by the Maltings and you Kieran, not only telling me the name of the fish swimming below, but also its feeding habits; and you Milo, after watching a film recently, reciting whole scenes, even with the right accents.

I will remember you both for those special moments, like the other day when Kieran spotted a squirrel and whispered to me and Milo to tell us where it was.

Although you both had the occasional brotherly quarrel, when things mattered you were always there for each other, always supporting one another; and I know you will be looking out for each other now.

I will always wonder what would have been: what you would have done; what you would have been like. However, I will always remember the wonderful boys you are and how much love and enjoyment you gave to others.

Whether the names be …

Kieran and Milo;
Peanut and Babba Deux; or
Kiwi Dude and Meatloaf …

you will forever be my lovely boys; and I will always love you.