In a different city now, mate. We’ve finally scattered. Or scarpered from home.
Belongings in storage.
The usual countdown to July 4 disrupted. Places and spaces stuffed with memories, family and friends, distant and muted. The annual, chaotic nosh and booze gig halted by a pandemic you know nothing about. Though I think of those years you’d ball your fist tight, shove it under our noses, ask ‘Did I sneeze on you?’ and wonder.
Losing well worn, familiar grief spaces I worry about not missing you with the intensity and pain that is the lot of the bereaved parent. With so much new to see, hear, smell, absorb, distract I almost forget at times.
That’s ok, right? We’ve carried on, smashing life in our different ways. As we always did. Celebrating the joy, brilliance and laughter you brought to the party.
I just miss you so fucking much.
mydaftlife 
every dealing I have with SW about my daughters ongoing care and our fight to keep appropriate funding levels, I think of LB and he gives me an inner strength to carry on, Your son has made a difference to many, it won’t stop you the devastation of missing him though, but hopefully it helps. Much love xxx
Sara your Connor tragically died when he was young and beautiful. You will never know how or what he would have gone on and achieved with his life, only that he is no longer part of yours. This is so heart breaking for you and your family.
My son once was young and beauiful and lived, I hope, a full and happy life, being loved and sheltered by his family. He is now middle aged and for the past seven years has had horrific mental health problems, which has changed his once aimable personality. He almost got quite better, but covid has robbed him of the chance to mix with his peer group in his day centre. He is now stressed and so anxious and disruptive. His quality of life has gone forever. My husband and I cannot get him back to his old self. Would I dare to wish him dead. No! I want some brave doctor to cure him. I love him. I loved him when he was five and I will love him when he is fifty next year. Sara you had that burning protective love for your son and I can only imagine how the longing to see and hold him must feel. Bless you.
I always gain so much strength not only from Sara’s posts, but from the replies too