My Wonderful Husband, Duncan Gray - 25 March 1961 - 22 November 2008

There is no reason, there is no rhyme
It's crystal clear
I hear your voice and all the darkness disappears
Everytime I look into your eyes
you make me love you
And I do truly love you
how you make me love you
I belong to you, you belong to me
Forever

Want you, baby I want you
And I thought that you should know that I believe
You're the wind that's underneath my wings
I belong to you, you belong to me
Forever

You're my fantasy you're my gentle breeze
And I'll never let you go
You're the piece that makes me whole
I can feel you in my soul
I belong to you, you belong to me
I will belong forever, to you

My Precious Son

Stuart still tells me at least once a day that he wants to fetch Papa, or that he will be a doctor when he gets big and will fix Papa. It breaks my heart each time and then I have to tell him that we cannot do this which in turn, I am sure, is breaking his.

This morning he dressed in Duncan's clothes, as he often does, and asked me to put on one of the family DVD's where he could see his Papa. We watched some footage together of when he was really small and Duncan used to give him his last bottle before bedtime, then there was some of them playing in the garden which we laughed at. Next came a scene where Duncan is dancing with Stuart on his shoulders I had put a backtrack to it called "I love to dance with Daddy". Stuart just imploded and begged me to take it off. He was devastated and so was I.

Once it was off he was fine and started speaking to me about happy times and things we did together and asked me to tell him of when he was a "tiny baby" and how Duncan would put him to bed.

He also talks to me about the fathers of his friends at school and tells me that his daddy is dead. This is the only time he uses the term Daddy instead of Papa which was his name for Duncan. When we are at home and he is just talking about Duncan in general, or about wanting to help him he refers to him as Papa.

I am astounded at his memory for one so young. Next week I have to go up north for work and am able to take him with me. When I told him where we are going he immediately said "That is where we went with Papa!" and that was nearly a year ago. I am so glad that he will still have many memories of Duncan of his own and it will not just be us telling him about his beloved Papa.

A Brilliant Mind

This week may well be clocked up as the worst this far. I feel as if I have hit rock bottom and have started to dig. I can barely get through an hour without folding. I am trying my best to keep this from my family, friends and most importantly from Stuart. The former is easier as I just keep away from them; the latter a lot more difficult.

It culminated with Lindie, my right hand at work, and I being in tears and unable to even speak with one another on Friday. Lindie walked out of my office and closed the door. Through my tears I looked at my desk and thought if I put my head down on it I will begin to howl, I will unhinge and will never recover. I was on such a slippery slope and it took all of my strength to pull myself back knowing I have to be here for Stuart, knowing I cannot let go.

Later Linds and I got together and although still teary we managed to talk about Duncan and laugh a little too. The stress of his absence is felt so intensely wherever I am yet when I am at work, surrounded by all that was him and people who knew him so well, I feel some kind of comfort.

What is so difficult for us to accept is that it was Duncan's brain that finally killed him. This man of extreme intellect, who knew so much about so much, that all that talent, that gift could just be taken away, wasted. I still get so angry when I see people who have wasted their lives still walking around and I want to know why they, of so little worth, are spared and Duncan wasn't.

Our friends keep reiterating that when anyone needed to talk about something, ask advice about anything, get information they knew without doubt that Duncan would have the answer. His heart, the cause of his collapse, recovered and was fine minutes later yet his brain,that very organ that we all so admired, killed him - swelling to a size that could no longer me accommodated within his cranium.

It seems to be getting more and more difficult as time passes, instead of easier as I have been told it should. The more things that occur that I would have shared with Duncan, the harder it is for me, as I feel the vacuum so accutely. Stuart's developments, special days, milestones and things happening in our daily lives all have little meaning without him being here.

More Difficult to Bear

Each day I feel that things are getting easier to cope with yet I feel my life gets a little worse, a little bleaker. Each day one more little piece of me dies.

Nothing really matters. I see people getting so upset over such trivial things and I cannot help but wonder "What's the big deal? Nobody died!" All of it means nothing. I am trying to make our house feel like a home again. Tonight I sat down with Stuart and tried to eat a meal but I couldn't bring myself to actually set the table because that would be admitting to my "new normal".

My Beautiful Sister

A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life.
~Isadora James

This month is particularly hard for me, my precious sister Tracey-Ann Hambley Moore, passed away tragically 14 years ago today leaving a just turned two year old son, Keegan.

Always in my heart.