Great Christian Diaries

2003-11-18 - 4.16pm  previous entry  next entry

Thank you Emily, Poppy, Meg, Nicola and Helen for your lovely guestbook entries!!! :) xxx

I MUST finish what I was writing about before. I didn't get to write an entry yesterday because it got too late before I started, so I had to leave it till today. And we STILL don't have internet access, except for the expensive dial-up. So I am writing offline again and will post this later when I go online to check for BT's email (they are checking our line again).

So where was I? Oh yes, the phone call with Sharon (Cameron's mum). I can't remember what I already said, and I can't really go online to check in my diary so apologies for if I repeat myself!

Let's see, what else did she say to me? She talked a lot about Cameron's last few days in the hospital. She already told me about this, but she talked about it again in this phone call. She told me again how she said goodbye to him from everyone. She said she and Cameron's real dad were there when he died. She said he wasn't in any pain. She said when she said the goodbyes, he was unconscious but she knew he was aware - she couldn't explain how, but she knew he was.

When she told me how much I meant to Cameron, I said how I wished I had spent more time with him these last few years. That was one of a couple of times in the phone call where I said what I was feeling, and I am so glad for those opportunities, because somehow Sharon is the only person that I REALLY need to say those things to. I have wanted to tell her I'm sorry I didn't see him more in the last few years, and that I feel bad struggling so much over Cameron's death, and that I'm sorry I didn't think to bring flowers to the funeral. I don't know why. I just want to say those things. I didn't say about the flowers, but I will sometime. I know it doesn't matter really, but I want to say it all the same, because I AM sorry I didn't have flowers to bring. I don't know why. It just really gets to me that I didn't.

Anyway she said, "Yeah, but you can't keep doing "I wish..." - It will do your head in." She said she wished that she had taken Cameron to see The Hulk, which he really wanted to see, as a late birthday treat with his friend from school and then to McDonald's afterwards. She regrets not having done that. And she wishes Cameron had been there to see Nathan and the loft conversion that they had been planning for so long. He had been so excited about both those things. She wishes the doctors had maybe discovered his heart problem earlier, then maybe they could have saved him. But she said you can't keep thinking, "I wish this, I wish that." She said she did it for a while and then one day just thought, "I can't do this anymore." So she doesn't now. Her husband pointed out that if Cameron had survived, he would probably have serious health problems (to add to his collection) and possibly a very restricted life as a result. None of us would have wanted that. She also said that they are just so thankful that they had Cameron for as long as they did - because she reminded me that if he hadn't had his transplant he would never have survived anywhere near this long. It helped to be reminded of those things.

She said it was normal for me to be struggling so much with his death, because we were so close. She said I just have to take it one day at a time and try to keep going. Isn't that lovely of her to talk to me like I am somewhere near the place she's at? I just feel so amazed that she is that selfless. I told her I feel guilty because I am moping about and struggling, and she's his MUM, it can't be as hard for me as it is for her, so I feel bad to be doing this for some reason. She listened and said I should never feel guilty or bad. She said everybody is finding it hard that Cameron died. She said she spoke to Nicky, one of the nurses who has been at the hospital from when he was a baby. I remember her well. She was his favourite, as far as I know. Maybe I should visit the hospital and tell her that one day? Anyway, this nurse was in floods of tears when Sharon spoke to her. Sharon's mum doesn't go out, and can't get past Cameron's death. Sharon says she herself has days that she feels vaguely normal, even though it's not how normal used to feel, which I can relate to very well, and then days when she just sits and cries. But I never presumed I was the only one or anything, so I know there are others dealing with it with difficulty.

But Sharon said it's going to take time for us. She said Cameron would not have wanted us to be too sad for too long. She said I mustn't switch off and hide away, because it will make me ill. If she didn't have Michael and Nathan she probably would stay in bed all the time - it's only them that make her get up each morning, and even then she doesn't want to. It's only that she HAS to. But you have to carry on, she said. Even though "carrying on" feels such a horrible phrase and such a wrong thing to do. You have to do it anyway.

She said I would probably think she is crazy, but she sometimes hears him saying stuff in her mind, just like he always used to say things, when she does stuff around the house - "Mum, what are you doing?", "Mum, why are you doing that?" etc. She said you just have to think of what Cameron would say. I never really thought of that.

I felt terribly weepy on the phone at times, but Neil was playing on the computer about 2 feet from me, and also I did not feel it was right to break down on the phone to Cameron's mum, it was better just to talk I think. I expected the tears to come after I put the phone down since I had such a hard time pushing them away during the call, but they didn't. I felt empty, but not the same type of empty as recently. More still I guess, rather than that achy hollow lonely type of empty. I went upstairs and lay down and thought about all the things we'd talked about, and about Cameron.

I feel better knowing how Sharon is doing, and knowing that I have a date in my diary to look forward to where I am still involved in their lives. I get to go to Cameron's house just like I used to, in a few weeks. Only he won't be there, which I can't bear, but that's how it is so there we go. But I can't wait to spend some time with his mum again. I hope it's not all for the wrong reason, because I really do feel like she is the only thing left of Cameron now that I can still see and interact with and share. She IS genuinely a friend and I want to cultivate that friendship for it's own value, but also she is Cameron's mother, and there is so much about her that there was in him, physically they look a lot alike, and they share a lot of mannerisms and their way of talking is sooo similar. Plus for me, Sharon is the one constant thing over all the years I've known Cameron. Other family members have changed, some weren't there to start with but are now, and others were there to start with and then left. But Sharon remained, and still does. Now that Cameron is gone, all that's left of everything I've felt for Cameron and all my memories is Sharon. And it feels so much better knowing that we are going to spend time together (albeit with a million nursery children running all over the place!) in a few weeks. She said we mustn't lose touch, that they would not want to lose touch with us, and that it would be nice if we could come over for a video and some take-away one evening, maybe before Christmas if possible? I think that would be nice, but I'm kind of antsy about the take-away already. *sigh* They like Chinese or curry. I can't eat curry (allergy) and I never eat Chinese. But anyway, that's for another time.

They are not looking forward to Christmas. I don't blame them. They are going to have a family day on Christmas day, for Michael. I think they are mainly keeping life going for Michael's sake, with his party and Christmas, and they also had fireworks on Bonfire Night, even though Sharon said it was so hard. Six weeks on that night since Cameron died. But they did it for Michael. They are wonderful parents. I am feeling increasingly torn about something as simple as sending a Christmas card, because I absolutely do NOT know what to write in the card I always send to the family. I don't want to leave Cameron's name off, but I guess you can't write it when he's gone. But I don't want to be all "subtle" and just write to "the family" instead of naming them all like normal. I think they would see through that and maybe feel funny that I was treading on eggshells around them. I don't know. But I can't bear to write "To Sharon, Geoff, Michael and Nathan" when Cameron's name should be in there between Geoff and Michael. Just typing that and looking at it on the screen makes my throat constrict. But I know that is how it is now, so that's how I should write it. I don't know. I couldn't bear to do that right now, so hopefully I will start to feel better about it soon before the time comes for writing Christmas cards.

Well. I think that is as much of the phone call as I can remember for now. I felt different afterwards, maybe because of the relief of speaking to Sharon, or maybe because of what she said to me about how Cameron loved me, and about how it was okay for me to be grieving like this. Or maybe the part about Cameron wouldn't want me to be shutting myself away with sadness, and to think about what he would say. I think if he was sitting here right now on the sofa a foot or two away from me, he would say..... just trying to picture him..... okay, now I want to laugh and cry at the same time, because there's me trying to see him sitting neatly with his eyes meeting mine, trying to think what deep thing he would say to me, but in reality if he REALLY was sitting on that sofa, he would be hanging over the arm with his back to me, engrossed in my pile of computer games on that table over there, and talking at a rate of knots about which ones he liked the best, etc!! Heh. But if I were to interrupt him and say, "Hang on Cam, what do you want to say to me that ISN'T about computer games?!" then I think maybe he would be asking me questions. He always did ask me a lot of questions. Some that I couldn't possibly answer, like rhetorical questions. About anything and everything. About life. He found life interesting. He loved to learn things about the world around him, and about what people thought of things. He would ask me what I thought about this and that. Or say what he thought and then look at me like he wondered if I agreed or if I had a different idea to share with him. So we'd talk about things a lot. He never got tired of talking about things.

So I can hear him asking me, "Are you going to do ___?" as he looks around my room. He looks around him a lot and if things that he sees make him curious then he voices his curiosity. Urgh, a present tense sentence. I should change that. Oh well. Anyway that's how he USED to be. So I can just see him sitting there looking around him and saying, "Are you going to put that front door up?" and "What's that?" (the tent in the canvas bags over there by the mirror), and oh just loads of things about what he sees. I think he if he voiced all his questions he would be asking me if I was going to have a baby sometime, and "What are you going to do today?" and things like that. All his questions would be proactive, or else they would be those that trigger an interest in something by looking at it from a new perspective instead of taking it for granted. So if I try to think what Cameron would say, like his mum suggested, then I can't really stay in this pit of grief like I have been. I miss him and I'm crushed that he's gone, but if he were here he would be expecting me to stay interested in life like he was, and to do things. He would be delighted if I had a baby. He would be happy if he knew I was active and busy and happy. There would be no question of me feeling bad if I go out and laugh and be happy and enjoy myself, as I have felt a bit recently. He wouldn't understand such a feeling, I mean, he would be totally baffled as to why on earth I would consider feeling bad about enjoying myself. So all this has helped me immensely to get my thoughts and feelings in perspective.

So on Sunday (the next morning) we went to church. We went to the big church in Wimbledon because it was an annual gathering of the churches in SW London for a regional celebration. I always love those, but I hadn't felt like I could go and enjoy it this time. I almost did not go, as it took me till after 3am to get to sleep the night before. But we went, and it was great. I saw loads of people I haven't seen for years, from the big church where I became a Christian and got baptised and met my husband. We never went to that church for Sunday services though, but it ran the Alpha course that we attended so we met there, and I was baptised at the end of the course there. And I just happened to become a Christian there at an evening service I happened to attend. Of course, none of it "just happened". God is great. So anyway, it was great to go there. After Alpha we went to our normal church in the mornings and attended the big church for evening services, because they were great fun :) We did that for a couple of years I think, so we got to know people there well. I was on the prayer ministry team there. They have awesome ministry times after the services. We don't do that so much at our church, which is a shame.

Anyway, so we went. I got to hug and chat to a lot of old friends. I am amazed that there is now such a thing as "old friends" at church, because it hardly feels like any time since I was 19 and committing my life to Jesus for the first time. I can't believe I've been a Christian 8 years!!!! It feels like yesterday. The other thing about that is that there are a ton of children who were toddlers when I last saw them, and now they're all tall with adult teeth and stuff. And there was this woman when we used to regularly to the evening services - she had two daughters aged about 13 and 11, and a little boy who was about 4. And after a year or so she got pregnant, and we stopped going before she had her baby. We went about a year later for an annual whatsit, like this Sunday's event, and she had a baby girl with her. This family sat next to us on Sunday, and the two daughters weren't there, but I reckon they must be going on for college age or something now? They had a lad of about 11 or 12 with them, and a little girl of 5 or 6 with long brown plaits in her hair and loads of personality! It was soooo weird. I never believe I have been going to church as a Christian for this long until things like this happen!

Anyway it just felt great to be surrounded by sooo many people worshipping God again. I love our church and wouldn't want to move, but I sometimes miss worshipping God with loads and loads of people around me doing the same. It's a lovely feeling. Because they are all familiar to me, it's a feeling of family. But even at Stoneleigh Bible Week when there were like 20,000 and pretty much everyone was a stranger, it still felt like family. It's lovely being in God's family.

So it was good. The worship was lively and loud and crowded, and refreshing therefore. Worship is lively and loud at church normally but it just felt different on Sunday. We sang songs that we don't normally sing, and some that we haven't learnt at our church but I know them from some Christian CDs I have. We sang Michael W. Smith, Matt Redman, and loads from Stoneleigh. I love that kind of music so it was uplifting. Ah it was so great. I felt funny enjoying the worship in the same way that I've been feeling funny about life since Cameron died, but after a while I remembered what Sharon had said, and I let myself loosen my grip on Cameron in my head, and just go with the worship and the music. Right after that, we sang this song from Stoneleigh about when Jesus returns. I wish I could just make a link to the song so you could click on it and hear what I mean, because it's such an awesome song and it has always given me goosebumps. The words are all from Revelation in the Bible, about the trumpet sounding and the dead being raised and all that. How troubles are hard but they are only momentary, and when we are with Jesus all hurt and pain will cease, and we'll be with him forever, and we will see him as he is, and we'll live in his glory. The music soars like nothing else in the chorus and everyone was just singing the words with all the strength and volume they could muster, and the whole room was this sea of arms raised to Jesus, and the sheer volume and the sound of the instruments and voices just made my eardrums prickle. So I let go and worshipped God. The words and the sounds and the fact that I was letting God in was incredibly healing for me over all that I've been feeling about Cameron being gone. The song was soooo apt. I found great comfort in the words, and I felt close to God again.

THEN the sermon was soooo awesome!!!! We had a speaker from another of the London churches and it was so amazing. Incredibly apt for me and for Neil too. About building community, and what holds us back in doing so. And about priority. It was funny and interesting and I was sad that had to finish. We didn't stay long after the service, because my brother lives nearish to that church now that they've moved (a week ago), so we went to visit him and Sarah, and see their new place - my little brother owns his own home!!!! Yikes!! Of course that doesn't mean I have to see him as grown-up, I still refuse to do that! :)

Their flat is so nice. It needs a LOT of work though. We stayed and chatted for ages, and Bennie showed me his latest computer demo (he's a programmer). He created games when he was young for the Commodore 64 that we had, like when he was 7 and 8, he was scribbling things down in computer Basic - hello?!! He's so clever :) Anyway when he was 13 he wrote a computer game in C+ or whatever the language is called, and now he's finally got the opportunity to put the writing to work, so his game is finally complete. It's a platform game with cute graphics and 8 levels, and it's really addictive. I got to level 6 on Sunday!! :) I am so proud of my clever brother.

They gave me the keys to my childhood home so that I could pick up the curtains and my bear painting.

Yesterday was a busy day for me, well, busier than usual anyway. Neil is off work on study leave for 3 days this week, so on Monday afternoon I drove him to the university so he could study and that, and the route we took went right past the turning for the cemetery. So on the way back from taking Neil, I went to the cemetery. It was pouring with rain the whole day yesterday, so I just planned to park in front of Cam's grave, get out, stand for a couple of seconds (not even sure why I wanted to be there), get back in the car and drive home again, because I didn't have an umbrella with me or a hood.

But I got out of the car and saw that the windy weather that we've been having has blown all his things everywhere, so I set about picking them up again. His flowers from his vase were all over the grave nextdoor! Then I saw that one of his ribbons was missing. He has two ribbons from his funeral flowers - one is bright red and the other is bright blue, and they both have "Cameron" written on them in gold letters. They have wire on the ends so they were driven into the soil with the wire. The red one was flapping loose so I secured it, but the blue one must have been ripped up by the wind and blown away :( I walked the length and breadth of the cemetery looking for it, but I never found it. It was a lot of walking and it took me a while, so I got pretty wet, but I just wanted to find his ribbon. Oh well. Never mind. It has to be there somewhere because it would have become lodged in some foliage or something before it could blow out of the cemetery altogether. But I couldn't find it.

I went back to the grave and talked to Cameron about his mum's phonecall, and things like that. And about who took his angels. It still really bugs me that someone stole them.

Then I came home and grabbed my money, and drove into town to pick up a walking foot for my sewing machine. It cost more than I expected and I was parked outside the shop illegally (naughty!) so I had to run to the cashpoint and get some money, which wasn't closeby. I ran and ran and got thoroughly out of breath, and my legs are stiff today. I need to get fitter!! Anyway I got the thing, and then I drove to Sainsbury's and did the food shopping without a shopping list (I only forgot spaghetti too!!), and then I drove to the butcher's, and then after that I drove to my parents' old house and let myself in. It was totally dark outside by then, and the house was cold and empty :( Soooo sad. My lovely home that I grew up in with all those warm memories, and now it's cold and empty. Oh well, these things happen as life goes on, and anyway, someone new will move in and look after it soon. I hope they don't change too much, we never had it hugely modernised, so it has all it's original character features from when it was built in Victorian times, like fireplaces and sash windows and stuff like that. I love that house. I went from room to room looking in empty cupboards and stuff, just to check that nothing was there. After I did that, I spent some time in each room reliving some of my favourite memories from each specific room. I have endless memories. I was five when we moved there, and married when I left.

My bear painting was the only thing left hanging on the walls, and the curtains were folded on my bedroom floor waiting for me. I found it hard to leave my bedroom. I stood in it for ages and prayed aloud to God, thanking him for all he'd blessed me with in that room, and for the home and the family and the childhood he'd given me. I am so thankful, and it was very soothing to have that closure involving God in it while I stood in the house. I remembered summer evenings sitting at my window, and Christmas morning downstairs before it was even light yet. And warm lighting everywhere with cooking smells filling the air. And my daddy at the piano in the front room, flooding the house with beautiful music which always gave me a warm feeling of security and home and familiarity and comfort. And birthdays in my parents' room when we always crammed everyone into their bed to open presents. And playing Lego in Bennie's little room. And Mummy giving us baths together in the bathroom. And loads of memories in the kitchen too, being sat in opposite corners when we had argued, while Mummy did the laundry or something! And the familiar sight of my parents locked in a long cuddle as they often were, while the sink filled with soapy water for washing the dishes after dinner.

And I realised how glad I am that I am saying goodbye to that house with all it's memories NOW, and not when my parents have died. I don't think I could bear to say goodbye to everything all at once. I realised how good God is to me, how he knows that about me and always gives me life's trials in bite-sized portions. He never gives me too much, even when I felt like it was too much when I was confined to the sofa with M.E, or when I had to endure the weeks and weeks of hearings and questioning in the nursing abuse case I witnessed. Or when he took Cameron home. But if I look back, I can see that God has always been faithful, no matter what else is happening, and he knows me through and through. He always meets my needs.

After I prayed and went through those memories, I went into the front room downstairs which was the only room with something left in it - the piano. The movers are coming later in the week to take it away. The piano stool is gone. I lifted the lid, and Daddy's duster is still tucked neatly to one side. He loves his piano. He always kept the duster there and he always kept the keys clean. He hated sticky fingers on his piano! I poked at a couple of keys, and the notes flew out clear and in tune. The house seemed suddenly so empty of music, and it seemed so sad that I was overwhelmed with the urge to play and play and play, and fill the house with music again. I have never had a time when my life wasn't full of music when I was home - except since I've had my own home. But Daddy never stopped playing, and if he did, there would be jazz or beautiful classical music or Ella Fitzgerald or Louis Armstrong, or any number of easy listening bands playing from a record or cassette, or later from CDs. It is weird to be in a family home and not hear music. And the sound of those notes echoing in the empty house felt like.... I don't know.... a few tantalising drops of rain when there's been a drought.

So I pulled up an old step-ladder and I sat in the dark room, and I closed my eyes and played from memory what I could remember how to play. I surprised myself because usually I am sooo rusty and it takes me ages to warm up. My hands were cold because the house was cold, but they just flew over the keys and it felt amazing to do that and for beautiful music to come out and fill a big empty space and change the very air. It only took me a short while to get going, and then I played pretty classical pieces with beautiful harmonies and phrasing, and when I finished them I just started them again and put more feeling into them this time, and so on. It was such a wonderful feeling, and I didn't want to stop so I kept going. They were just simple pieces because I never learnt for that long, but it was wonderful to play them again. I think that I played some of those pieces better last night in the dark with my eyes closed than I've ever played them before. They just flowed and I didn't make many mistakes, and they had more feeling in them than I ever put in before. The more feeling I put in, the more beautifully the melody seemed to rise and fall, and the more that happened, the more feeling and passion I wanted to put in, and so on. It was lovely. Gosh I wish we had a piano. I would play it all the time right now. It feels so awesome to feel your fingers hopping about on flat pushy things and this beautiful music comes out as a result. Such a lovely feeling.

Anyway, it was getting late so I had to stop. I waited till the last note completely disappeared, which was a while with the echo pedal down, and then I picked up my curtains and bear painting, and a couple of other things I found that were hanging around (a glass pasta jar and a little wicker newspaper rack), and left. Man I love that house. Mostly I love my childhood. It was so wonderful that I'm always sad when I have to let it go that bit more. It was weird looking at things like the design on the hearth tiles and know full well that my frail human memory would not retain their image, no matter how familiar and solid and permanent they looked to my eye at that moment. There was no point trying to make it stay.

At home I unpacked the shopping and all that, and did some laundry, and then Neil got home and we chatted and watched a movie.

Today I haven't done much. Thought about Cameron a lot, but something is a bit different now to how it was before the call from his mum. It's ever so slight, and I can't put my finger on what's different, but something is. In a more settled way I think. I like somehow I made a tiny step of acceptance in some way. Like maybe it's okay that it's normal that Cameron is dead now. I don't feel that way, but it feels like I made a tiny move in that general direction, so things feel a bit more settled. Still achy, but different. It's got to be good anyway.

Well this entry is soooooo long, but I had to write it all down before more stuff happened and I forgot about all this important stuff! I am going to housegroup tonight and I'm so looking forward to it, because it's my old housegroup, with Sue and Marigold and Judith - the one I was so sad to be leaving just over a year ago because a new one had started in our local area and we felt it was right to move to it. I miss my old group though. Judith and I said that Emily would be welcome at Judith's housegroup if she felt up to it and wanted to go, and I said I would take her (good excuse to go again!), and she has phoned me to say she'd like to go, so YAY, I am picking her up at 7 and we're going to housegroup!! We may not stay the whole way through if Emily starts flagging a bit, but that's okay. I understand how it feels to be doing something and to have M.E and start to feel like one of those Capri Sun drinks in a foil pack, when you suck alllll the drink and air out of it, and it just collapses on itself. You want to stop what you're doing and be somewhere familiar where you can immediately put your body to rest and try to stop the feeling getting any worse. So I am happy to take her home the instant she feels this way - are you reading this Emily?! You just let me know, okay? I will not be put out if you want to leave early! M.E sucks.

But I hope we both have a good time tonight. I am looking forward to it anyway, for me and for Emily. And now I need to take a shower (yay, we have a shower screen at LAAAAST!!!) and um.... tidy up a bit probably, and see what Neil is doing. He's reading for his assignments, but I'll see how he's doing anyway.

Hopefully soon I'll be back online freely, but till then I'll still update like I'm doing now :)

Recent entries.....

Cameron's first anniversary - 2004-09-24
Update - 5th Anniversary and other stuff! - 2004-08-16
Church picnic and being happy and things :) - 2004-06-27
Barbeque at Cameron's house... - 2004-05-18
To Tara... - 2004-04-19