Missing You

Missing you my little man, How can life be the same, how dare people think they know how I’m feeling. Sometimes the kindest words can so be miss placed. So yes to the world I am missing George and no I’m not all right, so stop asking and I will stop lying and saying that I am fine.

The Great Manchester

A week on from the great Manchester, I'm so grateful but at the same time so deflated, it's not due to the amount of loving friends and many strangers who gave willingly to baby George, that made the day so special. It also wasn’t even meeting complete strangers who listened to our story only to find that they have also went through the same earth shattering and devastated tragedy. I think it is partly due to the few friends and family who still walk away rather than say anything. Maybe it just me being too sensitive and I'm to obsess not by the many positives just by the few negatives. So a big thank you to all who made the day successful.

Holding on

Sometimes I'm so full of self loathing, that every minute of every day, I'm battling the urge to lay down and spend the rest of eternity with the boy I wish I was holding in my arms, only due to a loving, beautiful wife and caring children that keeps me holding on to the world and not letting go. As little children we are told 'big boys don't cry' but knowing now that big boys do more than just cry but spend their lives battling the darkness. So one day I will hold my baby once more.. Sleep tight George my heart want you back home in our lives. xx #SIDs

Six Month Mile Stone

Today would have been George’s six month birthday, I know it silly but I want more from the day, maybe white doves released from every public park or black armbands worn by every pass-a-by. The hurt and suffering is around everywhere, it should be full of joy and rejoicing but instead it full of darkness and feeling of loss. I miss our little boy but I decided not to make a fuss or to be glum for the sake of others, always for others.... all I really want to do is shout from the roof tops, ‘why, oh why isn’t he here’. I’m ripping apart from the inside out, only my poor, long suffering wife really knows what I’m feeling and I can’t keep being down in the dumps for her sake. Each day I wake up

Featured Posts
Recent Posts
Archive
Search By Tags
No tags yet.
Follow Us
  • Facebook Basic Square
  • Twitter Basic Square
  • Google+ Basic Square