As my memory rests, but never forgets what I lost, wake me up when September ends.
For the first time in over 10 years, I will only be taking one child to school starting next week, I wont be sitting waiting for Katie to saunter out of school nattering away with her friends, there will only be one parents evening to attend, we only have one child from here on. Its very difficult when for the last 15 years you've had 2.
Good days and bad days abound, it's impossible to say we are the same people. Things that used to matter dont, and things that didn't matter before now do - where previously I worried about upsetting people, now I think what the hell - say what you think, if they get upset, tough! Its the same with folk who pretend to be close to you and yet never show up - Not because they're bad people, but because they simply dont know what to say, how to approach us, and dont want to upset, and yet by staying away upset you even more. Amazingly though friends who have lived through this nightmare with us, are still with us, they are the strong survivors; forcing us to carry on living, making us see why we have to get up in the morning, brightening the darkest of days and always, always on the other end of the phone.
I had a lovely email from Sally Newham yesterday, she and her dad had cycled from John O'Groats to Lands End, in memory of Katie to raise fundsfor Myfanway Townsend, they averaged 80 miles a day and have raised over £1100 - a fantastic amount, and a very supportive lovely family, Sallys mum suffered from melanoma over 10 years ago, so when they saw Katies story in the newspapers they decided they wanted to so something; and we thank them so much for giving up their time and holidays to do this.
We got through the first small milestones of our birthdays, mine at the begining of September, Chris & Waynes in August - it seems stange not having Kate buzzing around doing this, that and the other, the house is quieter, and will be quieter still next week when Chris goes back to school. For Katies birthday we have decided to do the same as we did last year, have a meal with family and friends - who ever wants to come is welcome, although this year they will have to pay for themselves. I hope some are able to as it would be Katies 16th birthday, usually a special milestone but one which she will never see with us. It seems better to think of doing this rather than sitting at home thinking about what we were all doing last year.
Wayne is now back at work and coping ok, he has his moments but his mates are very supportive, as is everyone of course. But obviously there will be a time in the not too distant future when I have to on my own. Im used to being alone and it's never bothered me, I enjoy the peace and quiet at home or at the stables with just the dogs for company, but I've never had to contend with this sort of black wave which is able to wash over you at will, totally submersing to the point of drowning, the gasp as the realisation hits with renewed force time and time again, Katie is dead, she isnt coming back - the phone will never ring for her to say " Im going to ******'s after school, pick me later" or "Can you take ***** to ****, I told them it would be ok Mum" - no, life will never be the same and its that acceptance which is hard; because I loved the life we had before.
Tickets are going slowly for the wine and wisdom night, which is a shame because it promises to be a very good night, buffet laid on, bring your own wine and lots of donated prizes. Katies friends would so like to put a memorial bench in the cmetary for her, and for them to sit on when they visit her grave. At £5 a ticket - its nothing but the idea creeps into my head that maybe, even before 3 months is up, people are "all Katied out" their lives carry on moving forward. For them the shock and grief is ebbing away, fading like a stain out of their lives; which is understandable. Imagine having your child go on holiday without you for a week or 2, the loneliness, the feelings of "are they ok - what are they doing?" and then imagine never being able to speak to them again, they simply no longer exist - yes, you have photos and memories galore, but its not the same is it? Even losing a loved parent or treasured pet is different somehow to be expected, we are so conditioned to the idea that our children outlive us.
The discovery has been made - this is what Death is all about. Yes.... Summer has come and past, the innocent can never last; wake me up when September ends.
