debbie

hello everyone, Well, since I last talked to you all,we have discovered that my nephew, 23 year old Joe Jnr, may have testicular cancer. How many more kicks in the pants can my family take? Joe Jnr is quite a spiritual lad and seems quite accepting of his situation - his take on it all is that if he gets through it, great, and if he doesn't, well he'll be re-united with his grandad. He was so close to my dad and in his eyes there was no man ever came close to him - he changed his name to Joe (it was actually his middle name) and wants to be in the police force just like my dad was. I have managed to get to the point in my grief where I have the most beautiful photo in a crystal photo frame on a little table in the lounge - in the photo - taken a couple of years ago - my dad is sat in his chair smiling and looking so well. I cried so long the day i did eventually look at this picture, but i now look at it all the time and i talk to him and imagine his answers to my questions. A friend of mine lost her favourite uncle last month and she came to me and wanted help. I was surprised how strong I was for her when i am still feeling so fragile myself. Apart from the new worry of Joe Jnr, my mum seems to be pulling herself round really well, I see her every day and we have really helped each other. The other day she started telling me which funeral parlour she is paying in to, and I didn't want to know, saying that I don't want her thinking she's leaving me any time soon. She said she needed me just to be aware of it and that no she's not going anywhere for a good while yet. I replied "Good". Then we looked at each other and both our stubborn faces and just started laughing at each other and that was the end of that conversation! Mum reckons that when she does go it will be a bit easier for us than when we lost dad. She says that we will be able to take comfort from the fact that we will know that she will be with dad again. I really don't think that this will be the case as we are a close family and I love my mum as much as I love my dad, but I think it makes it easier for mum to think this way and she does truly believe that she will see him again. She feels him round her all the time, I unfortunately still haven't felt anything. Mum thinks that dad is scared to visit me in case I can't handle it. My sister who has always been a sceptic, rang us and told us that one day dads funeral song ( Fix You by Coldplay) came on the radio and she started crying uncontrollably. After she had calmed herself down, she looked up and dad was standing in front her, he said 'Louisey' (his pet name for her) and smiled and was gone. My first reaction was 'Why can't he let me know he's ok here, if he can go all the way to New Zealand to let my sister know?'. So as you may be able to tell, I am still totally heartbroken, confused and not able to accept that I may never see my hero again. If anyone out there can give me any words of advice they would be very welcome. One of last things my dad said to me was 'Nothing ventured, nothing gained' and I am trying to take this on as my mantra in life. There is so much I need to do to get myself to a happy place, I need to take his words with me wherever I go and whatever I do. I hope you are all doing well, and I send my thoughts and love to you all.

Ok well, yesterday I received some really bad news that is going to set me back no end - I have been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. I didn't expect this at all, I went to the doctors with a bad knee, but earlier I had a virus in my eye which more or less recovered. Anyway I had an MRI scan and all these things have come together to confirm that I have MS. My mum was devastated, as was I, she said she was pleased that my dad isn't here to worry about me - and I kind of think that cos he would have made himself ill worrying about me. I told her that having MS doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to be crippled, I may have several episodes (which is what they call each attack on my nervous system), I may only have a few or I may never have another episode again (please God). I suppose it is not knowing what is going to happen that is the scariest thing. Anyway mum has got me on Omega 3 + multivitamins and minerals, and in a weird way I think it may do her some good - having someone to help, mollycoddle etc. We will get through this together, but I really feel that I also may need to go to my doctor and ask for some help, because I dont know how many more bad things I can handle right now. So Dad, if you are around, now would be a good time to let me know. Love you Dad.

Well thank God that Christmas and New Year are over. We did our best to smile and be merry but it was as difficult as I thought it would be. I brought mum over to ours for breakfast at 7.30 on Christmas morning, and we had a cry at her place, then we kind of braced ourselves but it was little unexpected things that got to me - laying the table for only 5 people, and not being to actually say the words out loud to toast my dad at the meal (though i did in my head - I have constant conversations in my head with dad). I let mum read this web page and she thought it was lovely that I can communicate with you all. People have said so many times 'Your dad is here with you' but I haven't yet felt any kind of presence. This has knocked a lifelong belief that when this awful moment came, I would be able to take comfort from feeling that my dad would be somewhere near. I don't know, maybe in time I will feel him near, I really hope so, I can't bear to think that once someone has died, that is it - nothing on the other side. I still haven't the strength to look at those photos, although I did manage to look at some from my dad's younger days, it's the recent ones that I strongly connect with that I'm not yet able to look at, and I know that I'm holding my grieving process up. Mum gave me a beautiful Jack Vettriano picture, called 'In Thoughts of You', for Christmas, and told me that because it was bought from the Christmas savings that both she and my dad had paid into meant that it was also from my dad. I look at it long and often, but I don't need a picture to help me to think of him. It's nice to know though that dad knew how much I like Jack Vettriano's work, and he did see the Vettriano calendar they bought me also. At the moment, I seem to be in a deep pit of despair, I can't lift my head out of the hole, and I can't feel any light above me. I have a friend who lost her dad 8 months ago, and although she tells me that she still crys every day, she still is able to talk about him much more than I can. Best wishes to everyone, and I will do more here when I feel I have something more positive to say. Lots of love.

I was doing some shopping this morning in the local supermarket, when I saw a friend from school. She worked with my dad for a few years and absolutely adored him, to the point where I would get jealous! Today was the first time we've seen each other since I lost dad, and she came over and hugged me. We both started crying, she apologised, I said it was OK, and I almost ran away. This friend knows only too well the pain of loss as she has lost both a brother and a sister in tragic circumstances. But all I could think today was, what are you crying for, you've still got both your parents. I know this is a terrible thing to think, but my pain is still so raw, there is nothing anyone can say about losing my dad suddenly being the best way, or that at least he is not suffering anymore etc, that makes me feel better at all. I was then doing a bit of Christmas shopping and I came across a set of Dad's Army DVDs, and I momentarily thought, "I'll get them for dad". I know my husband's father likes Dad's Army too, but I won't buy them for him because I wanted them for my dad. Just as I think maybe I'm going to get through a whole day without crying, something hits me like a ton of bricks and I'm gone again. I still can't look at the beautiful photograph dad in mum's bathroom, and it's got to the point where now I go to the loo without turning the light on. At some point over the holidays I am going to make a time on my own, get all our family photos out and look at them all. I will be heartbroken but I feel I need to face this and reach a point where I want to sit and look at dad, because I feel lonely and I miss him. [attachmentid=219]

Hi all, We have just found out today that on the morning of the day my dad was rushed to hospital, a neighbour who lives just round the corner from my folks was on the phone to her friend who she was supposed to be meeting. She asked her friend to hang on because she was watching my dad who had parked outside her house, and she said he looked dreadful,so she wanted to keep an eye on him. Mum remembered that morning that dad had said that he was going to pay the paper bill, and was gone some time. We think that he had parked round the corner because he was feeling so poorly but he didnt want to worry my mum. I can imagine him doing this because he always protected mum and us from bad things. It breaks my heart to think of him doing this but he obviously wanted to handle his pain this way or he would have gone home and told mum. Unfortunately it got worse and the rest is sad history. All my love to everyone here, will be back soon. xxx

AnnieO and Shell Thankyou for your replies, they mean so much. It is strange but I feel better for talking to you and although we don't know each other I will be thinking of you over Christmas, we will get through it and I have been told so many times that it will get better, though when that will happen I don't know. Anyway, my mum who has been doing so well lately, and been so strong, has just strained a ligament and nipped a tendon in her knee, so she feels really down. She has severe arthritis anyway so she can't do as much as she would like, so now she says she feels that she is putting too much on my shoulders. I have told her that it is all part of being her daughter, that I want to look after her and that we will have a nice Christmas, I just hope she believes me. I am going to go and wrap my childrens Christmas presents now, and this is where I am going to start my big attack on my misery, and be happy and cheerful, I will save my daily crying for when I am on my own.

My dad died unexpectedly on 30 October 2007,my whole family is completely heartbroken. This is the first time I've written about this so please bear with me if I start to ramble on. My dad was my hero, he was a police sergeant until he retired, and even the local lads he arrested thought he was a great man. He was compassionate - he used to bring home puppies that he'd rescued from someone who was about to drown it or whatever. He was brave - he received an award for taking a loaded gun off a man who had lost his head having an argument with his wife and was threatening to kill her. He always put his family and friends first, and nothing was ever too much trouble for him. From being a little girl, I always insisted on being his labourer when he was doing work in the house, garden or on the car, and I'm sure I was more of a hindrance than a helper but he never ever said. We are a close family but my sister has lived abroad for years and my brother lives locally but never saw my parents as much as me - My husband and kids and I live in the same town as my parents and while we were at work my dad would come over every day to look after our dog and watch Sky Sports. In the few days before we lost my dad, he was in hospital (we thought he had a stomach ulcer, but it turned out to be cancer) and my mum and I were with him nearly all the time. He had changed from being the strapping, strong man I grew up relying on, to a frail, poorly and tired man. When the doctor took me and mum into a room the first evening and told us that he didn't have long and that we had to get my sister flown over, my mum was so dignified and together, but I was crying like a baby (it was my 40th birthday 4 days after my dad passed away and it would have been dad's 73rd birthday on 13 November) and when we went back into dads room I couldn't stop the tears even though I could see that it wsa upsetting him to see me that way. Mum and dad loved gardening and there are some beautiful photos of dad in the gardens looking healthy and happy, all round mum's house, but I can't look at them without breaking down. The regional newspaper did an article about dad a couple of days after and it is full of words of love and admiration from his ex colleagues and friends. It is a lovely keepsake and reminder of how much dad was loved by all who knew him, but I can't bear to look at the photo in the article. At the funeral, they played "Fix You" by Coldplay. It was dads favourite song, but it was also as though the lyrics had been written about him - dad always knew what to do and what to say and could sort anything out. This morning I was driving my children to school and there, 2 cars in front of me, was dad's car. It has been bought by a man who lives just round the corner from me, but I didn't know that 'til now. My dad knew and was friends with this man, so I'm glad that it's someone he liked who has bought it, but it will be hard seeing it every day. I even tried to think of something, anything, that my dad had ever did or said that made me angry, in an attempt to get over the tears, but there is nothing, absolutely nothing that I can ever remember that he did that wasn't nice. I look at friends who still have both parents with them, and aswell as feeling envious of that, I also feel sorry for them because I know what heartache and sadness will come their way one day. Writing this has been hard, but I feel so proud of my dad that it has also helped in a way, so I will write again soon. I know this has been a long winded posting, but I can't condense it. All my love and thoughts to everyone reading this, we are in a kind of private member's club that really we would rather not be a part of.