She didn't make it :(

So sad for my friend. He is absolutely devoted to his kids.
She was so young.
She didn't make it, poor thing.
I am feeling very sad for him right now. I know a little bit about how he feels.
Rest in Peace lovely girl.

Worried

Earlier today, I found out that a friend's daughter is in intensive care, quite possibly fighting for her life.
I can't stop thinking about it.
Please send your positive thoughts and vibes this way.

100 posts

Can you believe I've written 100 of the bloomin' things??

Thanks for sticking with me through my first century. Surely the next 100 can only get better?

xx

When did he grow up?

I've been trying to think of something nice to post: some good memories about Sam preferably. But because of all the stuff that's been going on, every time I try to remember something, I end up sad, or with flashbacks about the day Sam died.

So I thought I'd go through some of my photos, to see if I could find something that sparked a memory.

Of course, the first problem is that I have more than 17000 photos on my computer, and a lot more in albums and on CDs, so that approach probably wasn't going to be as immediate and successful either. Still, it's always nice to look at them.

As I looked at Samuel's changing face over the years, I thought about how his personality had changed too; and how, in that last year before he died, he was well on his way towards becoming a man.

Of course, for most of the time we had with Sam he was a child (surely these are happy memories, which I'll get to - as soon as I can access those memories!).
Then suddenly he was a big brother:

It can't have been easy for him. For 7 years he was an only child, and treated as such. Suddenly there was no time for him, and so much more expected of him. But to his credit, for a while he remained his lovely, warm, friendly self: bright, funny, cheeky, but still fairly innocent and childlike.

It was around this time though, that we started becoming a little more 'permissive' in our parenting.
Suddenly, Samuel was watching more 'mature' TV shows (like 'Family Guy'), and seemed to be 'getting' more of his Uncle James' dirty jokes (surely that's what happens when you have busy parents and a new baby?!) While he was still lovely, new behaviours began to emerge:

Of course, it was all downhill from there. Before our very eyes, our boy began to transform into a profane, pre-pubescent preteen.
We went through a pretty rough patch in 2006; when Anthony got sick and I was working in a pretty tough environment. So all things considered, Samuel did OK. It must have been a pretty horrible time for him; with lots of added responsibility; grumpy, stressed, sick parents and a toddling little brother who did things like push his Lego men down the shower drain (how horrified the Lego lover Ollie is about that time now!)
He could have gone completely off the rails, but managed to keep it together (a testament to his resilience and wonderful personality).
But apart from the odd cranky outburst, he was pretty normal. He went about developing his wonderful musical tastes, perfecting his attitude, and collecting bling;
and although he seemed a bit horrid sometimes, he generally was still lovely.

There were times when I despaired about the loss of my little boy, but I knew things were going to be OK when he still dragged himself on little 'outings' with Oliver and I, despite an obvious lack of interest:
He usually came along willingly, and even enjoyed himself (when no one was looking).

Samuel was also a great person to have with around on holidays too, especially as he got older.
I'm a traveller, with hopefully much more travelling in my future, and only now am starting to come to terms with the fact that I might have to do it alone.
While Anthony will go on 'big' holidays if I drag him along, he's never been as enthusiastic about visiting relatives or doing short trips.
There was no way I was going to let that keep me at home, so I often used to just take off with the kids on tow. We would often drive to my godmother's house in Moruya, or even to Melbourne to visit my family there. He liked seeing new places and always got excited about going on holidays.

As he got older, Samuel became both my navigator and travelling partner. He would help with Oliver, provide great conversation on the long drives, and act as the DJ. It was actually nice having the two boys at such different stages, even though we had the occasional clash of interests, especially when acting as 'tourists'. Samuel loved doing the touristy stuff: zoos, motel pools etc; whereas Ollie always had to have sleeps or play at the park. But it was nice having someone to talk 'grownup' to.

As the years (and the photos) went on, I saw more and more of the potential man emerge:
The kid-with-attitude who still loved (and tolerated) his little brother:

And the attractive young man who was starting to care more about clothes and appearances:
He was still sweet and innocent sometimes, and becoming a mature and responsible person. By thirteen, he had acquired the obligatory gadgets (iPod, mobile phone), all through hard work (yes, I work my kids hard!) and perseverance. These gadgets were responsible for teaching him some important life lessons.
He learned the value of money and how to save for something he wanted when he saved up and bought himself both the iPod and the phone.
He also learned how easy it is to lose them. In year 7, a fellow student stole his phone, and despite our very strenuous efforts to get it back (and get some justice), he never did. A harsh lesson, and perhaps another step towards the end of his innocence. I still get angry about that. Even more so now that I just know this kid is never going anywhere in this life, but he still gets to live it. (No, I don't wish him harm, I just get angry)

But that's something I shouldn't dwell on.

As for the photos, I never could pinpoint that moment when he changed from boy to man. But perhaps this one comes close. This was taken just after his 12th birthday, in early year 7.

It's here where I can really start to see the difference in his face. He was starting to lose some of the puppy fat and seemed to be stretching upwards every day! He was just so gorgeous!

Confession

I've been thinking about what I said in the last post, and wondering just why the whole 'be nice to your kids' thing has affected me so much.

I think it's because the last time I spoke to Sam, I was tired and a little cranky, and probably didn't give him my full attention.
I'd been shopping (for Christmas presents) most of the morning, and while we had some nice text messages back and forth, when I got home I had a headache and went to have a lie down.
Sam came in to tell me he was going to his Nanna's house, and I grunted something at him, not really paying much attention.

They were the last words I spoke to him though.
I wish I had said more. I wish I'd got up and hugged him. I wish I'd told him I loved him.

While I know that my kids know (knew) how much I love them (and I'm sure all parents are the same), there are so many times that we brush them off, don't listen, get angry, and leave it at that, knowing that we can make up for it later.

Well I know now that we can't.
Sam and I had a great relationship, so there's no guilt really, just regret. But it almost feels as bad as guilt. If I had those moments again, there are so many things I'd do.

It's almost cliched to say 'don't take your kids for granted'. And I didn't mean to make people feel bad about getting angry at their kids, because that's normal too. But there really are some moments you just can't get back; can't change.

I'd hate for other people to feel the way I do.

I love you Sam. I wish I'd told you more.

The ups and downs

Yesterday was kind of rough. We had one of those 'I really miss Sam' days, where tears come easily and regularly. We knew there was no avoiding it; so early in the day Anthony and I sat down to watch the DVD slideshow of photos that we had played at Sam's funeral. We cried all the way through it (Oliver was out), but it was a good release. And a good chance for a cuddle.

When I went grocery shopping later, I deliberately put my headphones on, so that I wouldn't have to talk to anyone. I used to hate it when people did that, I thought it was so rude. But it's amazing how much your perceptions change after someone close to you dies.

Like the smiling thing, behaviours that once made me cranky are behaviours that I now adopt myself. We never think about the whole lot of things we don't see when we look at others (and neither should we, I guess): that there might be a reason they look so grumpy or sad; that they have headphones on and look away when you catch their eye...

And then there's the way that people react when you talk about kids. In the past, whenever I've talked about my kids with a group of people, there's never been a little thought in the back of my head that maybe one of them might be that person who can't have kids.Or that might have lost one.
Now, that person is me.
On the whole, I try very hard to push my feelings aside when I talk about kids with others, or just focus on Oliver.
But sometimes it can get to be too much. When people talk about how much their kids are pissing them off, or getting in the way of stuff they want to do (like I have heard too many times this week from too many different people), all I can think about is 'at least you still have them'.
Usually I don't voice this thought, but instead find a way to change the subject or extract myself from the conversation. Though yesterday I did speak up, to someone very close to me who was already feeling vulnerable, and I regret that.

The other thing that I hate to see is strangers being horrible to their children. As a teacher, I was already hypersensitive to this, but I am even more so now. I have seen many examples of this over the past few weeks, and it all just adds up.
There are so many people in the world that shouldn't be parents, and sometimes it really gets to me. Why do they get to have kids when I can't? Not that it's the kid's fault; all I feel when I ee them is a mixture of pity and sadness, that they won't have the kind of life they should have.
But I get so angry at their parents, and probably their parents, and the shitty, crazy, mixed up world, that has its priorities all wrong.

So I think this ishow I ended up where I was yesterday. A combination of events and experiences, on top of a crazily busy week where many people did (and didn't) live up to my expectations of them (including one I have posted about before, who completely, very disappointingly, dropped the ball), the whole end-of-inquest thing...it's a wonder I did'n't go completely off the rails!

But, dear reader, it's out of my system now, so don't worry too much about me. Back to livin'...