Hello 2023

Hello 2023 I’m not not going to even try and say “Happy new year” because the words get stuck in my throat, I choke on the sentiment of new beginnings, a better time blah blah blah. The date has changed on the calendar and like everyday since April 27th I start it with the pain of missing my boy.

When I lost Livvy in 2008 the turning of the new year destroyed my soul, I truly felt like I was leaving her behind and couldn’t comprehend a year that didn’t have her a part of, memories made that didn’t hold her within. So I guess the irony of losing two children is I now know I’m not leaving Daniel behind in 2022 I’m bringing him with me. Just like Livvy I may have left his physical in 2022 but his spirit, his love, my Daniel will be in everything I do in 2023. Alongside his big sister they get to be my heavenly cheerleaders and my biggest inspiration.

Now don’t get me wrong I am not tying the loss of my beautiful boy in an imaginary bow of “all is good,” far from it. 2022 you have been a hell of a year and losing Daniel well there are no words it’s just wrong and so fucked. He deserved so much more and whilst I will never understand why I had to lose him I will never not be grateful that I got to be his Mama, I am his Mama.

So what’s the plan for 2023, right now I’m just sticking with just survival. I know I have to work on being healthy, not the lose weight, get active healthy (though this wouldn’t hurt) but feeding my body decent fuel, hoping to stop tumbling from one illness to another and just working on caring for myself a little more, “walk the talk” is what a friend reminded me gently this week.

I also need to work on my mental health, getting a later in life ADHD diagnosis came rather as shock to me but it had as allowed me to understand my brain more than ever and this is allowing myself to be more honest with my feelings. I want to continue learning more about myself and my likes and dislikes and to stop trying to play the roles I think others want me to play and find my authenticity. Not going to be easy especially with CPSTD but working with some amazing people has really allowed me to start understanding it’s ok to like what I like and who I am. Like I said it’s a journey and I am definitely still at the beginning.

I start 2023 in a new career, it’s a field I have wanted to work in for, well forever. I didn’t want to have to lose my gorgeous boy to find myself here but maybe he sent me the job from heaven who knows. I’m hoping that I can find my purpose again and make a difference still in the lives of others. I truly believe we aren’t put on this earth for our own gratification but that true joy comes from service and enriching the lives of others. So I’m striving for growth, development and hopefully success in changing lives.

I want to see the world a little more, live in the moment a little more and breathe deeper a whole lot more. For as long as I can remember I’ve lived only shallow breathing scared so much of what could go wrong that I forget to see what could go right. The irony of writing this after losing my beautiful boy isn’t lost on me. But I guess when you are already so broken the only way forward is healing. I don’t believe I could fall any further into the darkness right now so the only way forward is towards the light.

I have no idea if any of this will materialise, I’ve learned that life will be whatever it’s meant to be. All I can promise is I’m going to try to live to honour all my children my earthly and heavenly blessings. To live each day knowing I’ve made them proud and myself too.

Hello 2023, I’m not ready for you but I also know you are coming regardless, so here we go.

As for 2022 “fuck you”.

Doing

How am I doing?

A valid question I guess but I don’t have a answer unless it’s ok to just say “doing”. I wake up each morning to a life I don’t want, a life that’s missing so much that it hurts from the first moment my eyes open. I’m trying to be better, trying to behave like life is still worth it, but right now it’s not. I hate that I feel this way, hate that I cannot find the old me who could find joy in anything. No that’s a lie, the old me pretended to find joy.

Faking is my superpower I guess.

I miss my beautiful boy, how hollow are these words, they just feel empty because the depth of my emotions cannot fit into the space of these letters.” Missing Daniel “ doesn’t really comprehend the devastation and the brokenness.

I’m living a life I had never planned for, it’s not a bad life, I like my job and I do wish to progress and grow but it’s hard to enjoy when the reason you are there wasn’t your choice. The reason you aren’t in your happy place loving on your boy wasn’t your choice. You,me, my life. How easy is it for me to feel like a spectator in my own existence. On the outside looking in, not consciously attaching myself to the weirdness of a world that shouldn’t exist, a world without my beautiful boy.

It’s normally about here where I try to reach for the reason, reach for something, or to somehow make it right but there isn’t any right. There isn’t any silver lining, if there are lessons for me to learn well the teacher can go do one, losing one child gave me the opportunity to painfully learn and grow, two has fucking destroyed me.

I don’t feel like there is a way back anymore, the Sara I was has gone, broken pieces are just left behind. Will those pieces come together to reform, knit together to create someone new, I have no idea. Right now they, no i am just broken.

Broken

Dear Daniel

Dear Daniel it’s been over three months since we lost you to the evil know as Covid. Three months since our world when dark, where I fell deep into the pain of missing. Life is so different and not in any way we like, yes we can go out when we want, sleep as long as we want but none of them mean nothing. My joy was found in caring for you, seeing your cheeky smile when you decided it wasn’t time for sleep, or watching your cheeky grin before you closed your eyes and pretended to sleep so you didn’t have to engage with others. Gosh I miss you.

I received a phone call today, a Secetary wanting to book you in for your appointment, having to explain to her that you had gone broke me into a million different pieces. Saying the words “my son has died” burned on my tongue. I cannot say this without the waterfall of tears that follow. I’m dreaming of waterfalls recently, I’m stood under the drop and the water falls on me, sometimes it beats at my body, I lose the air to breathe, it’s fast and it’s strong and it those moments I can think of nothing, my mind is full with the moment, the water wipes my mind. Then some times it’s slows to a trickle and as I wait for it to drop gently on my head, my mine is full of you. If you fancy working the meaning out Daniel let you mommy know.

I still haven’t got the hang of living without you in fact although my brain knows it my heart often refuses to accept it. I feel like shouting at God, “what the f@ck wasn’t one of my children enough? How many times do you want to see my heart broken”. Still waiting in his answer, still waiting.

You were my North Star and now I’m without direction. I mean you know you mom doesn’t remember her left or right so without you here to guide I feel like I have no chance. It would help if I knew were I’m supposed to be going.

I hope you are having some fun there, have you convinced Jesus about the need for a farm, have you got Livvy helping you with the animals. Like you Livvy loved the donkeys especially when they pooped.

Anyway my beautiful boy give your sister and big hug for me. I miss you both beyond words, I don’t understand why I had to lose you, but I hold you both in my heart, i wish it was my arms but my heart it will have to be until I’m there with you.

Dance on the rainbows and bounce on the clothes my beautiful boy.

Mommy misses you so much it physically hurts.

I love you to the moon and stars and beyond my sweet boy.

Always

Mommy xxx

Do you get ice cream in heaven?

My phone vibrates, it’s a reminder to tell me it’s the Derbyshire county show today. I remember vividly adding the date to my calendar. Telling Daniel about how much fun we were going to have. The animals we would see. Describing how loud and full of so many different sounds, how I hoped the highland cow class in the show ring was going to be on again. Daniel sat eyes wide open listening to me, cuddling in closer as I went on telling him about the horses the tractors. He wasn’t happy that his favourite vet and wife wasn’t going to be there but we were going to have a wonderful day, I’m sure of it.

How I wish I was back there in that state of ignorance. Not knowing how less than a month or so later my world would be in pieces, shattered completely by my broken heart.

How I wish that I could have got up this morning and got Daniel ready for our day of animal heaven, not a day of grieving him in heaven.

How I wish

How I wish.

I hope Daniel visited the show today, that he and Livvy watched the show rings and guessed at the winning animal. I hope they danced to the music playing, flew high on the fairground rides, enjoyed ice-cream and candy floss. Do you get ice cream in heaven? I hope so.

I on the other hand have spend the day in tears, valid of course but overwhelming and so so painful. I truly feel like my future is over, I just have no idea what to do or who to be. I did wonder about going today but decided I couldn’t. The pain would have been too much and actually finances wouldn’t allow it. I do really need to find a job.

No one warns you about the loss of identity that comes with grief, with the loss of your loved one you lose the role you were to them. If you lose a parent you stop being their child, if you lose a child you stop being their parent. I don’t mean in name but in what your day consists off. Losing Daniel I stopped being his mom , carer, nurse, advocate my favourite role, the cuddler all gone with my beautiful boy. Of course I’m still Daniels mom but right now he doesn’t need me and oh my I loved being needed by my boy.

Along with the county show today I have many more moments, appointments that I don’t have to attend any more. My days are empty and I’m finding this hard to navigate. What the heck do I do with myself, 24 hours are now endless and empty.

As I’ve said I’m job hunting but even that has me at a lost. I haven’t spend the last years planning, working on my future career. I had my plans perfectly set before me. I would live to love on Daniel, to spend my time caring for him. Using my time to advocate for Daniel and any one with disabilities who are facing so much discrimination right now.

I had my plans

Did God laugh at them?

I don’t think so

Covid just stole them.

You cannot rush grief

Ok ok I’ve made a rookie error. You know this grief business, well you would think I would be be an expert. Losing three children, one would assume I would have this grief journey down. I wouldn’t need the map or sat nav; this journey should be set in my sub conscious, innate directions.

So why oh why am I finding myself trying to rush through to the end. You know the part where you find some acceptance and maybe a little peace. Come on Sara you should know better that this, there are no short cuts and no quick way through. There isn’t even a toll road that costs you a fortune but cuts out half of the journey time. Nope, no chance,not happening.

No matter how much you don’t want it to the pain of grief has to be lived, the reason why is simple , we love.

Right now it’s perfectly ok and right for me to be lost in the pain of losing Daniel. It’s correct for me to find every breathe painful in missing him. My tears should fall and my heart should be broken because I loved my beautiful boy, I love him, desperately.

Changing the sofa around, painting the walls even maybe putting his toy box out of sight may be what I need to do just to calm the waves but a fresh lick of paint won’t erase the memories of Daniel giggling on the sofa, holding him on my lap, snuggling into my chest, nothing will.

There are no short cuts in grief. What is it the Going on bear hunt book says “you can’t over it, your can’t go under it, you have to go through it”.

I know why I’m trying to push through the pain, the truth is I’m scared I won’t survive it. I survived losing Livvy by the love and need of her sisters, I am truly scared I’m not strong enough to survive losing Daniel.

I’m actually really scared of this darkness I feel.

My whole world changed with Daniels death, my identity as his mom, his carer, his nurse, physio et etc all disappearing with his last breath. He was, my purpose, my joy and my reason. My life was planned with him, I still cannot comprehend a life without him. It’s like my mind just won’t go there, a robot stuck moving back and forth “I just can’t compute, I just can’t compute”.

Oh gosh I’ve sat here thinking how better it would be to be a robot with no feelings, no emotions, no grief ; yet I wouldn’t be happy. I’m a person that feels intensely, if you are loved by me, well you get loved my me. I don’t do half measures. I tell myself I will protect my heart again and again but if I had of done that then I wouldn’t have had the gift of Daniel. I got to love and care for my boy for 6 years, I got to wake up knowing cuddles awaited me, that smiles that would fill my heart would bless my day.

I have spoken and walked through child loss with a number of people over the years ( too many ) and the one thing I tell them is it’s ok to feel broken, it’s ok to feel the pain, because you loved. Give yourself time and to be kind to yourself. This wasn’t how life should be.

Missing someone you love will never be easy and it shouldn’t be. This pain, this agony that I feel now it’s worth it, because I got to love Daniel and if I had to live this pain all over again for just one more moment with my boy I would do so.

So right now all I have to do is be, to be whatever I need me to be, to hold on and allow myself to grieve. There is no rushing grief, it sets it’s own timetable just like love does, as it should because grief is the love we cannot give and I love Daniel intensely.

In the brokenness

I’ve never been one to follow the calendar. I often don’t know what day of the week it is let alone the date, this has especially been the case in the last two years due to shielding. I mean who cares what the date is, we aren’t going anywhere. Yet since Daniels death I have found myself coming slightly obsessed.

When April turned to May my heart was aching, a new month that Daniel won’t be part of and today we begin another month that won’t hold him in it, it’s so very hard and feels so wrong.

How do I do this life without my beautiful boy? I really feel the need for direction. Nothing makes sense , the things I loved are now too different without my son. Alan suggested I join him in keeping the house tidy but even thinking about it makes me tired. I mean we are just cleaning up our own things when I’m so used to changing beds because Daniel had peed on the sheets, often literally after I had just changed his pad. That boy loved a clean nappy. I should be cleaning up milk when I forgotten to clamp the tube. Weighing pads, chasing prescriptions and so much more. What i am not doing makes what I should be doing feel so out of reach.

I know it’s going to take time and it should, shouldn’t it. You don’t move on from losing your heart in a day, week, lifetime. I’m just so lost it’s crazy, I think that may be my forever statement. “I’m lost.” Then I think of one of Daniels favourite hymns “ i was lost but now I am found” maybe I will be found or find myself again.

Who knows?

Alan and I are struggling so scared about the future. It’s hard trying to make a life you so didn’t want. Everything is different, everything is hard, everything is missing Daniel. People keep telling us of the holidays we can now take, the places we can now visit, the freedom we now have. I know they mean well but this so called freedom came a high cost. Plus I never felt so free when I got to love on Daniel.

I remember so vividly when we lost our beautiful Livvy my anger, I was so angry that the world continued to turn without her in it. I feel that same anger with Daniel but with an extra element of bitterness, we lost him to what we tried so hard to protect him from. His life was stole by a virus the world wants to forget. He is just one in million statistics that we just have to accept. It’s shocking, it’s cruel and it’s so very wrong.

I’m never going to be the same person again and I don’t think Alan will either. Sometimes the spotlight is too powerful to not see the truth. I don’t want to stay bitter but the brokenness of my heart allows it to creep in.

My wonderful friend reminded me at Daniels celebration of the Japanese art of embracing brokenness, Kintsugi. Kintsugi teaches you that your broken places make you stronger and better than ever before. When you think you are broken, you can pick up the pieces, put them back together, and learn to embrace the cracks. Kintsugi teaches you that your broken places make you stronger and better than ever before. She reminded me that I had once before filled my brokenness with gold and that I will do again.

I’m beginning to think I may end up with a bowl full more of gold than china but that’s ok every crack, every bit of brokenness was made because I was blessed enough to have loved and to be loved.

To be so very loved.

My beautiful boy.

I have been asked by a number of people if I would share what I said at Daniel’s celebration of life and to be honest I wasn’t sure as it was me being honest and very vulnerable. Then I was reminded that’s what I do I share my heart to allow others to share theirs. So here is my speech please if you don’t like it keep that to yourself because this was literally just for my beautiful boy.

My beautiful boy, my son.

It is said that grief is the love that you cannot give so right now this pain feels validated, feels true. You see Daniel I love you with every breathe I take. From the moment I met you I fell in love, breaking all the rules but not caring at all. The day you officially came our son it was day that the the legality caught up with what my heart already knew, you were my boy, you were my son.

Thank you Daniel for reminding me of the joy in the world, for allowing me to love you with no restrictions. It has been a gift to be so needed, to be your safe space, to be your person. I’m not sure how to go on with this endless void in my heart but I will try for you. You fought to live with a strength that is beyond comparison, if love could have saved you well we wouldn’t be here today.

How I wish I could hold your hand in mine again, how I could run my hands through your thick crazy hair. How I could feel your head on my chest and your gentle breathing in the place your called home, my arms they ache to hold you. My lap feels empty and lost.

Daniel your Daddy misses you so much, his Grand Prix buddy or sofa naps excuse. How he wishes he could moan again about the number of clothes, shoes, coats you needed, well I believed you needed. How even his fear of animals was lost in your excitement.

Daniel Robert you were a gift, a mind so full of questions always wanting to learn more. Your love of animals was unbeatable, your desire to put your hand up a cows bum unrepeatable.

Your love of nature was inspiring, teaching us to slow down and really take in the glory of our world. We listened to the trees as they danced on the wind, marvelled in the bird song, and cherished the fragrance of the flowers.

Daniel you loved God with all your heart, how I will miss hearing you sing along to worship. How I wish you would try and shout over Tim once again in church . Our prayers, oh my our prayers how you prayed for those you loved with a compassion beyond your years. You prayed so hard for your sisters, for their happiness, their hope. I know you are still praying over them and hopefully having words with the big guy up there.

I used to call you my little old man, childrens tv or music you didn’t care for. The documentaries, zoo programs and of course your complete favourite the Yorkshire vet. I’m going to miss your Dad complaining, so sure that we had fixed a prolapse viewing for every mealtime on purpose. We didn’t but maybe now I will.

Oh Daniel my beautiful boy, You touched the lives and hearts of everyone who met you. Your cheeky Elvis smile, your dirty looks all part of your character that we loved. You were joy, hope and faith all rolled into one handsome cute package.

So many people here today will miss you, your nurses and your flirting, the hiding in your hospital room for sneaky cuddles, you loved them all. Your Drs all inspired by your courageous spirit and your ability not to do it the usual way, always the Daniel way. “That’s Daniel”

Daniel you were a gift to us all, you gave us all hope again, you taught us to love hard once more. Right now I’m not sure I will ever fully love again but I know that’s not what you would want from me. Not the legacy you would choose.

I will feel you Daniel in the wind that blows around me, In the flowers that bloom and in the dancing of the trees.

Thank you my son for giving me the gift of loving you. Thank you for loving me with a need unlike I have every known.

Thank you Daniel for being my son, my forever beautiful boy. Now go dance with Livvy and sit in the arms of Jesus until we meet again.

I love you x”

Job hunting is painful

Ouch, my heart is beating so quick it’s a question a simple question.

Do you care for someone?

Job applications, oh my goodness when did they become so in-depth I mean I’m literally waiting for the question asking me my bra size. How much do employers need to know to see if I’m suitable for a job, why does the number of dependents matter? Are they only after those without. Then the realisation hits, I don’t have any dependents any more. My girls are adults they don’t depend on me. No one does, then to knock the realisation out of the ball park, the final question, do you care for someone?

Ok ok please leave me alone. Isn’t it hard enough that I’m applying for jobs I never expected to have. That my world looks completely different to the one I was in a month ago.

How much more of this pain can I take?

Oh my goodness how hard, too hard.

I know people have told me not to job hunt yet but obviously the bills still need paying and the day the one you care for dies, all payments stop. Giving myself time isn’t a option. Also the truth is time is something I have too much of right now. The days are endless and I mean endless. I swear my days are now made up of 48 hours not 24.

I need a focus, I need a challenge. I’m not the kind of person who can sit still I thrive on being challenged and I love being busy. Yes I have to learn some boundaries for my health and well-being but I need to do something. But what, and who am I now? For the last 13 years I’ve been a proud foster carer but after losing Daniel I cannot do this right now. Maybe in the future but not right now. I need something different, something that doesn’t make the familiar painful. Does this make sense?

But beyond being a foster carer who am I? I’m definitely not the dance teacher I was in my 20’s that’s for sure.

Could I do something in my passion, could I use my words to earn me a living? I would love that but have no idea how to make that happen.

Could I continue to advocate? When I write, speak and fight for equality and against discrimination the words form themselves. My passion allows the letters to fall from my fingers. It matters, I want it to matter.

So who, what and how?

If you haven’t caught up yet the reality is I’m in pain, I’m lost and I really want direction.

Any suggestions?

Any jobs offers?

Pretty please.

It’s just a van

It’s only a van I tell myself.

But it isn’t. It’s a symbol of the life we lived, the life we lost.

The boy we have lost.

This van was our escape to the Yorkshire moors, our spaceship to the land of green fields and so, so many cows. It was Daniels and with its return it’s another piece of my beautiful boy that I have to lose.

It’s not only a van, it’s a vehicle full of so many memories that I can never repeat. A vehicle with blemish’s created from adventures. Sand from the beach, leaves from the trees and a wheelchair now devastatingly empty.

Every piece of equipment taken away feels like a vicious blow to my stomach. I’m nauseous with the pain of loss. I know we don’t need them anymore but my goodness it’s just not fair.

We should be packed up ready to go visit with Daniels favourites, to feel my heart slow in it’s dance as we pass the border into Gods own country. I should be parked up by the river with my gorgeous boy on my lap feeding the ducks. Listening to the sounds that they make, laughing at Dads reluctance to come close.

How many “ should i’s” can one heart take, we are only weeks in and there has already been too many. How in the world can I survive a lifetime of this?

Grief is not new to me but this pain is unique unlike anything I have ever known, anything I have ever felt. It’s grief for Daniel, individual for my beautiful boy. Pain twisted in the memories that we shared, agony in the cuddles we won’t get to share again.

To say I miss him feels like the understatement of my life, I literally feel like I’m walking about with my heart missing. Breathing is pained by grief, my memories are torturous.

So as the van leaves the driveway for the last time. It takes with it a dent of my bollard hitting moment. The scratches of bushes too close to the sides but most of all it takes away another part of a life that I cannot live again.

It’s not just a van, it was Daniel’s van

Hope Day

Yesterday we received the news that the The Joint Committee on Vaccination and Immunisation have given approval for a low-dose vaccine to be offered to vulnerable primary school children aged 5-11 years old. This news has literally had me dancing around my sofa.

I finally feel hope that one day soon Daniel will be able to live his life fully again. This is something I have openly campaigned for and today my heart is so blessed.

Throughout this pandemic we have heard that Covid 19 does not adversely affect children and whilst this has been great news for the majority there have been thousands of parents, carers and children like myself living in fear.

My son Daniel has complex needs in total he has over 15 diagnosis and a number of them affect his immunity and his ability to fight infections. He has been hospitalised numerous times due to the common cold so you can imagine the fear Covid 19 has brought to our door. The only way I can describe it is that for the last 22 months I have been unable to breathe deep. The fear has closed up my chest in panic and anxiety and I know I am not alone. Thousands like me have lived in fear, hiding away, not living our lives fully to protect those we love.

Campaigning to get this vaccine has been hard, sharing my heart, my worries, my fears to the country in hope of having our children’s voices heard has been scary.

Yesterday’s decision has made this all worthwhile.

I have spoken about children like Daniel as the “forgotten children” today we can say we were not forgotten and we were heard and we were given hope.

I now have hope for a vaccine that will help protect my son.

Hope that soon Daniel will be able to live his life fully again. Return to school, return to his therapies, visit with his animals and get hugs from those he loves.

Yesterday was a good day.

Today is a Hope day.