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10th of December 2009
23 Months Today Conor (10th of December 2007)
And so Halloween came and went again this year and just like last year, I couldn't bear the thoughts of seeing all those excited kids running around dressed up to trick or treat. Like last year all the decorations stayed in the attic and I desperately thought of places I could hide in so as to avoid the night itself. However, there is no getting away from it is there? Just like Christmas, the shops are full on for weeks, if not months beforehand. So I did this year what I did last year. I pulled the blinds, closed the curtains, kept the lights off and retreated to your bedroom to occupy myself with work on my computer. Even though the house looked in total darkness, the kids still knocked and I could visualise them all dressed up, totally unrecognisable as they stood on my doorstep with bags already bulging with goodies. I could imagine them straining their ears for the sound of approaching footsteps indoors. They would give another knock just in case I hadn't heard it the first time before eventually giving up and running on to the next house.
There was a time Conor, before cancer when our house was the main attraction at Halloween. Isn't that right? The kids would gather outside our house to scare themselves senseless with the ghoulish displays I would put in window. I always went overboard with the pumpkins; lining the driveway with them and several more in the house. And then there was my witch's outfit I wore each year with long black wig and pointy hat. Each Halloween night I would go out with you, even when you got that bit older. I would wait at the pillar while you knocked on doors. There was always great excitement and the night usually ended up with firework displays and a spontaneous gathering in a neighbours house for drinks a chat and fun tarot readings. We both loved Halloween and all that went with it didn't we?
I suppose I passed on to you my love of this ancient Celtic festival . I had been brought up on stories of ghosts, banshees, superstition and all things supernatural. Halloween, or Samhain as I better know it was a very special time for me as I grew up. We always decorated and played the traditional games of bobbing for apples etc and took part in the fun rituals my mother had involved us in from a very young age. It was only natural that as I grew up and had my own kids, I would continue this tradition. Do you remember the wonderful decorations we have? And each year adding to our collection with even scarier items than the year before. Thanks to the likes of the big store in Naas (now closed) we had access to the most realistic and theatrical Halloween decorations in town. The last time we shopped there was when you were ill. Do you remember us going to get your Halloween outfit with Marc, Adam, Vanessa, Nick and Isabelle? Marc, Adam and yourself all wanted to dress the same and we really enjoyed wandering around the store. It took your mind off how sick you were and it was great that you had something to look forward to. Remember we met Brenda O'Donohue there that day? She was recording some interviews with shoppers for a special Halloween radio show. She stopped to talk to us and you told her all about your illness and she was so nice to you.
We had big plans for Halloween and I was really going to make it special because I knew that it may very well be your last one with us. You were really looking forward to it and had started putting pressure on me way too early to decorate the house. I thought it was too early but you would not be persuaded otherwise, so I started. We never got to finish it though did we? Things got very bad for you all of a sudden and we had to go to hospital when the pain got too much. Even in your dreadful state you moaned and panicked about getting back out in time for Halloween. I crossed my fingers and called on all the favours I could from your Angels, Pops, God; anyone who would listen but they never heard me so it seems. By Halloween night you had deteriorated badly. Awash with morphine that didn't work, you were wild with pain and delirium. Katie and I decorated your room in Crumlin. We put pumpkin lights in the window and left your costume laid out on the chair beside your bed. Marc and Adam didn't forget you though did they? They took an extra bag with them for you when they went trick or treating so that you would not miss out on all the goodies. When we temporarily got your pain under control, you would sit propped up in the bed with the bag of sweets spilled out on the trolley table in front of you; holding them, touching them and counting them. You never managed to eat any because your swallowing had been affected at that stage and you could only manage fluids. It didn't stop you enjoying just looking at them though. You gave me all your Haribo liquorice because I liked them and you didn't. You would ask me regularly "can I look at my bag again mam?" I was so sad for you. You had been very angry in the beginning about not being home for Halloween but the emphasis had now shifted to Christmas. You reckoned that you had a good bit of time to get better, weeks in fact . Of course you would be home for Christmas. You had to be. We didn't know then that like Halloween, you would also miss Christmas too.
And so Halloween is gone and I wonder what to do with all the decorations in the attic. I wouldn't have the heart, stomach or interest to take them down again. Yes, Halloween is gone but now Christmas has been flung in my face and there is definitely no escaping all the bling of the festive season. There is also the prospects of your second anniversary looming its mournful head among all the gaiety of the party season. Tis another world I live in these days.
I spent today out clearing leaves up in the garden yet again. It seems there is no end to them. This garden chore each time stirs up strong and vivid memories of when you were at home under palliative care. It was a very stressful time for all as you had totally lost your sight by then and the drugs just weren't working. You were in pain constantly and only drifted into drug induced sleeps for short periods of time. You would awaken delirious and screaming. Sleep for any of us was just not possible. You had a day and night nurse from the Irish Cancer Society who would administer ever increasing dosages of morphine and just be there as support and for when the unthinkable would eventually happen. I remember being so tired and out of my mind with stress. Your special bed was in the front room and I made my temporary bed on the couch so that I would never be far from you. The nurses wanted me to go to my real bed and try and get some sleep but I refused. It was me you called for when you woke and it was me who spoke soothing words to you and stroked your damp brow as we waited for the latest dose of morphine to kick in. Normal life had ceased for some time at that stage. I used to look out at my car and struggle to remember when I last drove it. Everything was strange. One day while you slept I asked the nurse to sit with you. I pulled on my jacket and boots and headed for the back garden. The garden at this stage was in a terrible state of neglect. Nothing had been done in it for weeks and the leaves were knee deep. I have no idea where I got the energy from but I got stuck in and spent about three hours clearing and sorting. My back ached but there was something so wonderful about just doing physical work and being outside. A normal everyday chore that I had taken for granted and even dreaded each year now seemed so sweet and enjoyable. For those few hours, I just focused on the job in hand and pretended life was normal. There was a wonderful sense of satisfaction in being tired and aching from physical exertion and not just from horrendous stress. Part of me did not want to go back into the house that day and face the reality of our situation and the inevitability of the outcome.
Missing your Huggies,
Mam xxxxxxxxxx 10th of October 2009 22 Months Today Conor (10th of December 2007) and Another Day Closer to Seeing You Again  Conor Posing outside Friels Pub in Straffan Billy Dunphy, was and still is, a very dear and extremely special person in Conor's life. He instilled my son with confidence in school and inspired him to reach for the stars when he doubted his abiliites. He brought out the very best in Conor and gave him the best role model any boy could ever have or wish for. He impacted my son's life in the most precious of ways which touched both my heart and soul. Conor looked up to and respected Billy. There was no one quite like 'Sir' in Conor's eyes and mind. Billy was there for Conor when he was full of health and strength and when the dark days came and all the pain, he never flinched or backed away. His visits to Conor both in hospital and home brought a welcome even if only, brief respite from all his suffering. And when we lost poor Conor, Billy took charge of his classmates arranging a choir in the church and of course his heart wrenching rendition of Conor's favourite song by Oasis 'Wonderwall'. Accompanied by all his class mates Billy played guitar and sang. It was a moment I will never forget. So sad and so uplifting all at the one time; so many tears fell silently in the church that day. And here we are nearly two years later and Billy is still there making such a difference and still honoring Conor's young life. Just this week he presented me with the song below which he wrote especially for Conor. As I silently listened to him sing and play, the tears flowing once more, I realised how well he knows the soul of my son. The words weave webs of such deep and personal meaning that only Conor and I would understand. Somehow you managed to make it all beautifully fit Billy. Billy, no words can express my gratitude and honour in accepting this beautiful song on Conor's behalf. What a lucky boy he was to have known you. Blessings from the heart, Vivien Butterfly in the Rain (Song to Conor)  By Billy Dunphy I Like a butterfly in the rain Cherry blossoms in the wind You were fragile In the teeth of a storm Like webs of silver in the sun Golden clouds in the dawn You were as precious As your love so warm Chorus: So sing your songs And play guitar Rockin loud and free! Free from tears and All your pain a, Vanished Memory And dance with Angels As they sing Their sweetest harmonies And watch your colours Shine crystal clear Through all eternity II Like summer swallows on the wing Beloved dolphin in the Bay Your bright beauty Flashed with joy Before our Eyes Like spreading ripples On a lake Meadow flowers in the breeze You were gentle In all your days and ways Chorus: So sing your songs And play guitar Rockin loud and free! Free from tears and All your pain a, Vanished Memory And on the shore With Angels wait For those who long to be At home with you N'er to part For all eternity 10th of September 2009 21 Months Today Conor (10th December 2007)       Conor, this time two years ago we were on holidays in Dingle. We had started off on the Aran Islands, then went for an overnight stay in Glin Castle before eventually heading to Dingle. We had great fun didn't we? The weather was fantastic too. I think we got the best of the summer. Do you remember our first night in Doolin when we went out to eat and you just couldn't get enough food into you (all those steroids). You clocked through freshly caught fish and chips and we strolled up the town to find the fanciest dessert around. The next day we sailed across to the Aran Islands and it was so warm. We got a room with a great view overlooking the sea and we watched the fishing boats come and go. Do you remember when we hired the bikes. God help you, your back and legs were hurting so much but you were determined to cycle. We took the coast road and I had a haversack full with picnic stuff. The scenery was breathtaking but in the end your legs and back were not able for it and so we headed back to town taking rests along the way. Do you remember sitting on the wall beside the old telephone box. We were nearly back in town but you were struggling terribly. I should never have taken you so far that it would be a long way back. We got back though and had our picnic instead on the beach in front of our hotel. You splashed in the water a bit but you really had not got the energy to do much. In the days before cancer, I would have had to drag you out of the water as the tide was coming in. Do you remember how we would stay the whole day on the beach without ever getting bored once and you had so much energy to burn? Conor, it was soul destroying to watch the life being sapped out of you by both cancer and drugs. Where had my boy gone to? I know that you were still in there but everything had changed so much hadn't it. I wondered what your mind was thinking about and how it was taking in all that you were going through. You often appeared to be miles away, lost in your musings and imagination. Had you already begun to take your leave of us in little snatches. I think maybe so. After we left the Aran Islands we headed for the celubrious and amazing Glin Castle. This had been gifted to us by my old boss and you were swept away when you saw the place. A real castle and so luxurious inside. Do you remember there was a reception on when we arrived for the local yacht club. There had been some race and the prize giving was a big affair. After we were shown to our beautiful room we were invited to join them and there were lovely canapies and drinks. You wandered off once and when I found you you were sitting outside on a bench just staring across the fields. My heart nearly broke when I saw you. There were other kids there that day belonging to the yacht club and they were racing around the grounds and climbing trees. You must have watched them as if an old man nostalgically and sadly reminiscing on the days when he too was young and his body strong and able enough to run and jump. But you weren't an old man, you were only 11yrs old and should have been running with them. You must have been angry, so angry inside. I often tried to get you to talk to me about what you were thinking but you always dismissed it and changed the subject. Look at the picture of you drinking Essiac Tea in bed in Glin Castle. God I made you drink that tea every morning and night. It was renowned for fighting cancer and had a long list of success stories in shrinking tumours. It had even claimed to have cured many of all sorts of cancers. It was definitely worth a shot. Remember I would have to make it in a large pot and strain all the herbs before bottling it. Then I would mix a small measurement of it with warm water for you to drink. Thank God, you actually liked it for it looked like water that was taken from the Liffey and smelt awful too. Then of course there is the great photo of you after your bath lounging in your fluffy bathrobe on the chaise Longe pretending to read the property supplement in the Independent. We had such a laugh didn't we getting you to pose for those photos. We were trying to pretend that we were the landed gentry!! However, you did confess to me as we were leaving the next day that although it was very fancy and posh , you preferred the Dingle Skellig Hotel, where we were heading next. Now heading to Dingle was what this trip had always being about. Dingle was our favourite place on earth and Conor just loved staying in the Dingle Skellig. We both had such fond and wonderful memories of staying there in the past. The sun was shining as we crossed over onto the Dingle Peninsula and the fushia orange flowers were breathtaking in the hedgerows. We were meeting my sister Alison and my nephew Sean in Dingle. They live in Kinsale but were joining us for a couple of days. Conor, you were so excited and looking forward to seeing Sean and showing him around Dingle. Sean was only a couple of months younger than you and the two of you got on like a house on fire. When we arrived Alison and Sean were already there and it was all very exciting. On check in we discovered that the manager had upgraded us to a wonderful room with a fantastic seaview. You were over the moon and so relieved to eventually be in Dingle once more. Look at the photo of you in bed with your fungi soft toys. You were so tired after the day you had almost fallen asleep at dinner. We had been out to see fungi once more on the boat, had gone shopping in the town even though you felt so tired. You bought the two fungis in Aquarium World remember. I had given you a bath to ease your tired muscles and bones before tucking you up in bed with your fungis. The big smile on your face shows how happy you were. When I had tucked you in you snuggled down into bed and kept saying "ah, this feels so good". You fell asleep almost immediately. I won't go into all our time in Dingle for I will be writing about it in your story instead. So let us move onto the photos of yourself and Sean in Kinsale. After we left Dingle, we headed to Kinsale where we were staying in a friend's holiday home for a few days. Sean would stay a couple of nights with us and we would visit with the rest of my sisters family who lived the far side of Kinsale. Thankfully the weather stayed fine but for you Conor, the tiredness was increasing and your energy levels getting lower by the day. There was little we could do. However, there was a beach across the road from the holiday home so we only had to cross the road to get there. Look at yourself and Sean so busy digging in the sand to make a sand castle. The two of you became so engrossed with what you were doing that I really believe you forgot all about being ill. I went for a stoll on the beach and took some photos of the cliffs and the wild flowers growing there. Your sandcastle turned out so well you were really proud of it and made me take photos of it. I am so glad I did. Ever since you were a little toddler you loved the sea and the sand and all those sandcastles you built over the years. This one was different though for this was to be the last sandcastle you were to build and the photo of you paddling in the water was to be the last photo of you either at or in the sea. You weren't feeling well were you? You couldn't even find the energy to play the WII with Sean. I decided to take you home a day early as there was no point in staying when you felt so poorly. As we drove out of Kinsale that day, the sun was splitting the rocks but you slept nearly all the way home. It was the beginning of the end wasn't it Conor? You had only finished your radiation therapy a few weeks earlier and we were told that you would feel much better and even return to some sort of normal for three to six months. However here we were with you not being able to put one foot in front of the other. I believed that there had to be some other reason for it and had being told that a couple of weeks after one finishes radiation therapy a terrible fatigue can set in with symptoms not too unsimilar to the cancer. I held onto this as being the cause but I now know that as I took those photos above all the radiation and all the herbal teas had not stopped the tumour taking hold. We were fighting a losing battle. We were only home a few weeks from hols when we had to face that terrible truth. By the end of the month you would be back in hospital and totally bedridden. Conor, how did you cope with it all? How did we all cope with it? Looking back now, I cannot believe what we all went through, but especially you, my sweet, innocent lovely boy. I will carry the pain of it all etched into my heart for the rest of my days. Missing you now and always. Mam xxxx 10th of August 2009 20 Months Today Conor (10th of December 2007) Anam Cara Summer Picnic Barretstown   Conor's Cousin Nicholas displaying his expert handling of a canoe. Nick again with John on the Lake in Barretstown   Well here I am fulfilling one of my 'things I want to try in life'. I hit the centre of the target first time. It was a great thrill and I felt like Susan from Narnia. Conor I know you would have loved to give this a try. The other picture shows Conor's sister Katie (right) and his aunt Vanessa (left) trying not to get wet out on the lake in Barretstown.  Vanessa, Nick and another of Conor's cousins, Isabelle in the Picnic Hall at Barretstown. Tired out after all the activity. Anam Cara, is an organisation set up to support bereaved parents. Together with the team at Barretstown they organise regular meetings, talks and events such as this end of summer picnic we all enjoyed at Barretstown in August. These days bring parents and families together who all share the same terrible loss of losing a child. These days are very special as each and everyone of us know, can empathise and relate to all around us. We are free to be ourselves, talk about our loses and most of all to celebrate the memory of our dear children. I have been to a few of these already and they have been great days and much laughter. It is wonderful to see all the families; mothers, fathers, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents. The death of a child does not only effect the immediate family. Often the relatives of the child are not taken into consideration and can be easily overlooked at the time of the loss even though they are suffering terrible trauma and heartbreak. These special days organised by Anam Cara and Barretstown bring us all together and strenghten the solidarity we feel as family in our loss. Our children are equally remembered and missed yet, the day is all about having fun while honoring our children who are no longer with us. Barretstown is a wonderful place and a magical adventure land for children. The Barretstown team never seemed to tire of smiling and laughing and showing us how to stay safe in the canoes, how to hold a bow properly or running to catch the kids crossing the water on the zip line. The whole place is spotless and so picturesque. Nick, being a boy of course tried out everything whereas Isabelle was a bit more hesitant just enjoying the whole scene and action. Katie and John were like big kids out on the lake and competing with each other in the archery. Vanessa, had a great time in the canoe and couldn't get over how beautiful the place was. I was thrilled to have a go at the archery. I had secretly being looking forward to it since we arrived on site. I couldn't believe when I hit the centre of the target first time but didn't realise how strenuous it would be. My arms were aching for days afterwards. There were loads of other activities going on, such as face painting, art, pottery, soccer and treasure hunts. We all brought our own picnics and even though we ate in the grand big hall, the weather was actually decent enough to eat outdoors. These special days draw to a close with all the families gathering in the magical walled garden to plant a tree in memory of our children. There are poems read, music and time to be silent with our thoughts. Little pebbles are given out to all and in turn we all leave our stone at the base of the tree and spend a moment in contemplation. Yes, there are tears and hugs but it is wonderful to share this occasion with those who understand and have walked the same dark path. Yes, these special days at Barretstown bring back many memories, especially when you suddenly recognise faces in the gathering. There is no wondering how you know them or where you might have met for it can only be one of two places for me and they are St. John's Ward in Crumlin and St. Luke's Hospital in Rathgar. Some of these families were still fighting their battle when we left Crumlin, others had lost theirs while I was still in the middle of mine yet I will never forget their faces. At night on the wards when all visitors were gone and the night nurses had just come on duty some of us parents leaned on each other, cried together in the kitchen or shared stories over cups of coffee or tea. Other faces just passed me blankly on the corridors; eyes staring out from terrified and exhausted souls, lost in their thoughts and stress. At times I thought we were all oblivious to each other so intense was our own personal drama and trauma, but the light of recognition when we meet at these special days is unmistakeable. As much as we will never forget our lovely children, we will also never forget those who shared those days and times with us; who heard our tears, our raised voices in anger, who saw the blind terror in our eyes, who acknowledged the exhausted look of acceptance in or faces. These are the same people who queued with me for the one shower which was always blocked. They saw me without makeup, dishevelled and suffering from sleep deprevation wearing the same clothes for days at a time. Some were there the night we lost Conor. Some even came in to kiss him goodbye, God how brave was that with their own child still battling and their future fragile and uncertain. Yes, the tears come very easily and the hands begin to tremor when you hear a soft hello and gentle touch as you turn to look into the face of a parent you once shared such strong emotion with. We generally embrace with hugs and tears and slowly but surely hear each other's story. These meetings though painful are very important for they played a very intense part in our journey through cancer and the death of our son or daughter. Conor, you know you were supposed to have got the opportunity to come out to camps here and have fun but you never felt well enough to enjoy all that Barretstown had to offer. If your radiation treatment had worked the way it was supposed to have, then you would have felt well enough in yourself for a few months and then we could have done so much more. However, it was not to be and all that I hope is you joined us in the canoes and zip lines (you would have gone crazy for that), the archery and picnics. I hope that you ran with Nicholas and Isabelle and climbed the trees with them in the courtyard. I really hope that you shared in the fun with us that day and will continue to whenever we are invited to Barretstown in the future. Take Care my Son and please watch over us all, Mam xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 10th of July 2009 19 Months Today Conor (10th of December 2007)   I think of you today, when you were so much younger; full of life and dreams You were going to be in a band. Remember when you got together with the boys, Aaron, Marc and Adam to form a group?. Not one of you could play an instrument at the time but that didn't stop you putting on a great act and thinking up names for your group. Do you remember that Marie was going to be your Manager and I your PR person? Remember you wanted to put up notices locally to promote yourselves but I had to remind you that before you could play your first gig, you would have to learn a few songs and at least look like you could play a few chords?!!! Ah, the innocence of it all. We all had a good laugh though and when you look at the photos above, you sure did have all the right moves going on. Who knows Conor, what might have been, Who Knows? Missing you so much today and always. I will go for a walk in the forest today and rest a while on your bench. All my Love, Mam xxxxxxxxxxxxx 10th of June 2009 18th Months today Conor (10th of December 2007)    The Class of 2009 (back row, second in from right) So here we are Conor, the school year is nearing an end once more. All your school mates above, finishing the last couple of weeks of primary school for good. Tis the end of an era and they will all be going their separate ways. I am sure many will go to Scoil Mhuire next door, others to Newbridge, some to Celbridge and maybe even Clongowes. You were meant to be with them aswell. Look at you in the top picture above! Your first day at school and rearing to go as you left the house. You met all them for the first time that day. You shared some great times with these boys and they were so good to you when you got sick. I will never forget them Conor. I told them all not too long ago that they were never to forget the depth of compassion and sensitvity they showed you. I told them that they must always keep that in their hearts and take it with them as they matured into young men and went out into the world for it would always stand to them and make them better human beings as a result. I also told them that you would look out for them as they had once looked out for you. It is hard for me to watch them as they come out the school gate. They are all so tall now and no longer kiddish looking. I watch your space at the school wall as I drive by. The wall you always stood at waiting for me to arrive and pick you up. I almost think I see you standing there for you stood there so often over the years. You would give out to me if I was a minute late and say "for God's sake" and then fling me your school bag to carry as punishment and ask "are we going anywhere special?". You would moan and groan in the back of the car about the amount of homework you had to do and how it was all so boring. Yes, you were a complete nightmare when it came to homework I'm afraid. You would do anything to get out of it. I have kept in touch with the school since you took your leave of us. I speak to your teachers regularly and don't worry I will get them presents from you before they all break up for the summer. Conor, the long summer evenings are tough for me. You should be out on the green playing with the boys. I think I see you and for a fraction of a second forget you are gone but when I look again I can see it is one of the other boys from the road. Then I pull the blinds downs so that I can block them all out. Enjoy your hols, Love Mam xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 10th of May 2009 17 Months Today Conor (10th of December 2007)  Conor lost in happy memories Wine Strand Beach, Dingle August 2007
I dreamt of you last night Conor,
strangely inviting as it called out to our playful souls
no words needed to convey and share our mutual understanding, our appreciation, our joy of this precious magickal vision
Yours and mine - always and forever, where your voice and laughter echo across the ocean breeze,
where you footprints remain forever etched upon the warm white sand, skimming across the waves like the pure Undine Sprite you always were and still are, Where your thoughts and impressions vibrate within each beach pebble and sea shell
Your essence sensed on every hill and mountain 10th of April 2009 16 Months Today Conor (10th of December 2007)  9th of December 2007 - Room 9 St. John's Ward, Crumlin Hospital I held your hand as a baby, to keep you with me, to keep you safe, because I loved you I held your hand as we crossed roads and held your hand when you felt afraid I held your hand so often over the years that it seemed so strange I would never hold your hand again in this lifetime. that's why I took this picture Conor 16 Months ago, you took your leave of us 16 months ago I held you in my arms and kissed your brow, your eyes, your eyebrows, your nose, your mouth, your chin, your hands, your hair - goodbye 16 months ago I told you to spread your wings and fly, to go with your angels 16 months ago I told you to get out of hospital for christmas and to leave all your pain behind 16 months ago I told you that it was okay to go and that we would be alright 16 months ago, you listened to me Not a word you spoke, not even a sigh, not even a smile You just drifted away, tired and worn out riddled with drugs beaten by cancer 16 months later I am so happy I never left your side - even though doctors tried to make me rest 16 months later, I still do not know where I got the strength from 16 months later I don't know how you endured what you had to endure 16 months later I know in my heart that you are the bravest and most heroic person I have ever met 16 months later Conor and you are still gone and we are still here 16 months later and Katie has kept everything that reminds her of you - even receipts 16 months later Katie still brings home a spare copy of the Argus and Smyths catalogue, just for you 16 months later, two birthdays and two christmases have gone 16 months later you are now a teenager, a young man 16 months later Phoebe became a teenager too and missed not having you there for her birthday 16 months later all your friends are growing up and getting so tall 16 months later Marc is now 11yrs old and Araan's voice is breaking - they miss you so much 16 months later Marie is still so cut up about you - she was your second mother after all 16 months later Vanessa is still having very bad days and can't believe you are gone from us 16 months later and Nicholas is getting on well at school and loves playing your WII - I thought you would want him to have it. He has more games to go with it now 16 months later and Isabelle starts school this year and is still mad into all her bling and fairies 16 months later all your school friends are preparing to finish in primary and move on 16 months later the trees planted for you at home and in school have grown and are in blossom 16 months later your xbox 360 still lies there and the shed is full of your footballs and skateboards 16 months later the kids still talk about you on the road - you're not forgotten 16 months later I still have dreams that we beat the cancer and you are safe 16 months later I still sometimes forget you are gone and mentally include you in plans and activities 16 months later, all your clothes still hang where they are and will continue to do so 16 months later your packs of unfinished chewing gum still sit in your desk drawer 16 months later your guitars sit silent, never a string plucked or strummed 16 months later, I am trying to do the best I can, trying to get on 16 months later, my heart still beats, my lungs still fill with air 16 months later I still do not know why that should be so 16 months later I still kiss your urn goodnight and say "another day closer Conor" 16 months later the longterm memories are coming back - I feared they wouldn't 16 months later I am remembering more and more of the normal times and not just the horrors 16 months later and I feel I have aged twenty years 16 months later Conor, I still have not replaced Lillie - Do you see her often, do you play with her? Tell her I miss her too and all our walks in the forest 16th months Conor, 16 months - it seems only yesterday but also a lifetime ago I will never fear anything again for the worst has most definitely happened 16 months later I am still here but you are gone 16 months later I do feel your energy presence around the house a lot and sometimes so strong but I can't see or touch you Some day, people will say the same of me 16 months later what age will I be then? How will I cease to be - by what nature? What face will death wear when it comes for me? where will I be? Who will be with me? Just make sure it is you Conor who comes to take me home I miss you so much and am full of tears and smiles for you today honey Tell all I know up there that I was asking for them Pops, Canice, Peggy, Daphne, and all the animals too Lillie, Daisy, Annie, Max, Pepsi, Lucy and all those gone before Sending you Love, Kisses and Hugs on Angel's Wings Mam xxxxxx |
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