Anyone who has ever had a child will tell you that to lose him or her is their worst nightmare.
Anyone who has ever lost a child will tell you the nightmare is far worse than you could possibly have imagined.
Every year I write something about him around his anniversary, you would think that I would have run out of things to say about him by now. But every year when he isn't here, I think of so many things he has missed, the things I have missed sharing with him, and of course those things mount up with each year that passes! The people who weren't born yet who he would have loved, his two nephews and niece who would no doubt have been the apple of his eye. Two Brothers in law and a sister in law he never met, no doubt he would have been nagging his brother to marry his wonderful partner now that same sex marriages are possible- he would have wanted to be their best man!
I wonder what he would have thought about I pods? (I know quite a few songs that would be on his!)
I wonder what he would have made of Facebook (I know his would have been full!)
I KNOW what he would have thought of terrorists, freedom of speech, LGBT rights, Human rights, Animal rights, unfairness and inequality in all things. I know that he would have been loved and have given so much love, as he always did.
It is a myth to say things get better over time, one simply manages to find a few tricks to cope.
I have always thought it a bit unkind when someone old dies and people say "He had a good innings" meaning a long life. When actually the longer someone has been in your life , the harder it is to lose them.
Equally, the longer someone you love has been dead, the longer the pain, the heavier the burden.
I am reminded of a story of a teacher who held a glass of water up in front of her class as the class began.They all presumed she was going to ask the "glass half full or half empty " question. But instead she asked them "How heavy is this glass of water"? They shouted out the answers, ranging from 8oz to 20oz.
But as she explained "The absolute weight doesn't matter, it all depends on how long I have been holding it. If I hold it for a minute I will hardly notice it, but if I have to hold it for an hour my arm will start to ache, if I had to hold it for a day, my arm would feel numb and paralysed. In each case the weight of the glass doesn't change, but the longer I hold it the heavier it becomes".
The worries and stresses and traumas of life are a lot like that, if we think about them for a minute they are almost bearable, if we think about them longer they really start to hurt, if we think of them all day long, we become paralysed and unable to do anything.
With some of our worries and pain we can put the burdens down - let go of them. With other things like losing a child, it would be impossible, so we have to find ways to function despite our being paralysed.
Most of the time my broken heart doesn't show, I have my armour in place, the guard is up, I can even talk about what happened to him without crying. But in unguarded moments, a snippet of music, a facial expression from one of his brothers or sisters, bumping into one of his school friends out of the blue can destroy me in seconds.
The world is poorer for losing Nick and people like him, and in January I feel the poorest of all, and that glass of water weighs ten tons.
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