OUR STORIES
Michelle and her Daughter georgia
Co-Founder Michelle's Story
Our Story,
Brothers Brendon and Mathew Gilson had everything to live for. Brendon, 19 years old, an avid on line gamer who loved spending time on his computer and doing up his Ford Laser. Mathew was 16, a high school student just starting to decide on career options. Both boys lives were taken in a tragic accident, both boys had become another P plate road trauma statistic.It was on July the 14th 2005, we were all returning home from holidays, the boys had opted to stay at home and at their dads, their sister Georgia went to her dads and my partner and I had been in Fiji for 10 days, our favourite place to holiday. It was only one year prior that I had taken Georgia and Mat to Fiji, Brendon had opted to stay at home, not cool to have holidays with mum and besides he wouldn't be able to take his computer the 2nd love of his life (the first being his car).I had rang my son Brendon when we arrived at Sydney airport at about 1:30 to tell him we should be home around 4:30 after we collect his sister. "Brendon" I said " Its mum, just letting you know mate that we are in Sydney and will be on our way home soon, should be home by 4:30" "no worries" he said "Mats at the movies, Ill bring him home when he is finished" "ok I said, Love you" Love you to said Brendon. Little did I know that that would be the last time I would hear his voice.We started our journey home to Maitland NSW, I was so excited to be going home, 10 days away was a little to long, too long to be away from the kids, I looked forward to everyone getting together to discuss what we had all done during the holidays.On the way home we collected my daughter, she was so pleased to be coming home as well, she said " mum I called in home while you were away, Brendon and Tim (Brendons best mate) were there playing computer games" we had a chuckle because that's what those two always did if they weren't out for a drive. Anyway we were about 15 minutes from home when I stated to get a pain in my left leg, a headache and my forehead was really sore, I couldn't explain it, we just put it down to the travelling for the day and the fact that I was probably tired, its was approximately 4:15 pm, we were home by 4:30.While my partner took my daughter to soccer training I stayed home to answer telephone messages and emails, un pack and just get organised so that when everyone arrived home we could just sit and discuss what we had done.I couldn't stop my leg from aching, at around 5:30 I decided to get up and put the washing on, get my leg moving I thought. At 5:50 pm I heard a loud bang on the door, when I approached the door I was confronted by two police women, I opened the door, they asked if I was Michelle Amess, to which I replied yes, thinking it was some kind of joke, they asked if they could come in, I said yes, as we were walking to the lounge, they were insisting I sit down, finally I realised something was wrong and said "which one Brendon or Mathew" to which they responded "we are sorry to inform you but there was a fatal car accident this afternoon and both of your boys have been killed. Straight away I said NO, you have made a mistake, I just spoke to Brendon this afternoon, he's on his way home, NO NO, you are wrong, they asked if there was anyone else they could call as I was home on my own, I started to dial Todd's number but they took over.The police asked him to bring my daughter straight away to Morpeth, the boys grandmothers.The drive to Morpeth was all a blur of lights to me, I remember saying I know you are wrong, I just spoke to Brendon this afternoon, there has been a mistake, you'll see. We arrived at Morpeth to be greeted by the boys uncle, I yelled quick get Brendon, he said its true Michelle They are gone.We all went in side to wait for the boys dad who was being bought home from work, we just sat in the kitchen surrounded by family and friends, I don't remember much else except for thinking, " how could this be, this doesn't happen to us" not my boys.One minute we were all returning home from holidays, everything was normal, within an instant our 'normal' had been turned up side down and our lives would never be the same again. Todd and Georgia arrived, by the time they entered the kitchen there was a police man there as well, Georgia knew something was wrong and said where are my brothers "they are dead" the policeman said, I heard my partner start to cry and the policeman say "you have to be strong now, she will need you"." I cried out my life is over" and so our journey of grief begun, no more family holidays, days filled with regrets, things I hadn't said, things I didn't tell them often enough, simple things like "I love you, I'm proud of you"We were told to go home and get some sleep, sleep I thought, how I could sleep, I wanted to see my son's. I was told I would have to wait until the next day, they were in Newcastle and it wouldn't be possible to see them now. We had to wait for a phone call in the morning to tell us what time we could come down and see them... I don't know if I slept, I just know that wait for the phone call in the morning was the longest wait I have ever endured, knowing my boys were dead, died without me by their side, knowing they were cold and I couldn't comfort them.We arranged to meet police and their dad in Newcastle, and started the drive, all the while I know I was thinking this can't be happening, we were all on holidays yesterday, how can this be. We arrived at the morgue, were met by a lady and then led into the room to see our boys; their dad went in first, one son at a time... All I remember is thinking that Brendon was a sleep and that he could wake up but that was not going to happen, Mat looked so small, well I don't need to say much more needless to say it was the hardest day of my life.We headed home, started to make funeral arrangements and well the rest is, as you would expect.Michelle- Coordinator/Cofounder of H.O.P.E
H.O.P.E MEMBERS STORIES
This is my story.By Faye Hawley Darren
From as far back as I can remember when anybody asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I wanted to be a Mum or a hairdresser! Just one month after my sixteenth birthday I found out that I had satisfied one of my dreams, as I was to become a Mum with my baby being due in October. The year was 1974 & people still looked down on unmarried mothers, so in July 1974 I was married in Mum's lounge room to Colin.On October 23rd at 11.37pm my beautiful little boy was born, he weighed 7lbs 14ozs & we named him Darren. Darren wasn't well so was taken to the "Special Care Nursery". I didn't get to hold him or feed him for nearly 24 hours.Darren was perfect in every way possible & he was now my life. He needed me for every thing & if there is any such thing as a perfect baby it was Darren. He slept through the night from about six weeks & reached all his milestones as expected.Although my marriage was not very good, over the next ten years I went on to have four more children. After the birth of Scott in 1984 my marriage ended & the kids & I moved on. Colin & his family virtually had no contact with the kids from day one.I met my second husband Brian in late 1984 & we married on May 14 1988 with all five kids being in the bridal party. We were a family in every sense of the word with the kids asking Brian if they could call him Dad & if they could use his last name also. In 1989 Brian & I had a daughter & our family was now complete.There was always something about Darren that made him special I don't know what it was but he was just a great person. He did all the kid things getting into trouble & the like but was always so close to me. He grew up to be the kind of person you wanted to be friends with & we had a hard time keeping the girlfriends at bay. He raced a car at the motor drome; mind you he didn't even have a car licence at that stage. He built a billy cart & entered "The Mattara Billy Cart Derby" he made page 2 of the Newcastle Herald. He worked with us in our courier business & finally got a truck licence so he could take over from me & I could retire, life was great for us all.Darren came to me in 1993 to tell me he was to become a Dad. Darren's son Dillon was born in March 1994 he was our first grandson & so much like his Dad. I was present at Dillon's birth to share that very special moment with Darren & Renee.In 1995 Darren met a new girl Tara & they married in 1996 she was nice & had time for Dillon which we thought was great, but things started to change & Darren became distanced from us all & wouldn't even see Dillon. I let it pass thinking it was just teething problems with his new wife but things didn't get any better, Darren just became more & more distanced from all of us not even coming for Christmas or birthdays. Something was terribly wrong, but I couldn't find out anything.After not seeing Darren for Mothers Day 1999 I decided it was time to bite the bullet & find out what I had done that was so bad that he had to walk away from his whole family. Brian & I went to Darren's house he opened the door shocked but pleased to see us, but not Tara she was standing against the sink & her body language said everything. I asked Darren what I had done to hurt him, he put his head down, shrugged his shoulders & started to cry, Tara on the other hand said if we didn't f****n know, she wasn't about to tell us, we stayed about another five minutes before Tara started ranting & raving & told me to get out of her f****n house & never f*****n come back. I picked up my bag & Brian & I left. I have never returned to the house. I knew I had lost my beautiful son.On September 13 2006 at about 10pm our phone rang, Lauren answered & said it was Mark & he wanted to speak to me I took the phone this person says "Faye it's Mark, Tara's stepfather, are you sitting down, I said no, he then said oh well Darren's just done himself in" my life as I knew it had now changed forever!My beautiful baby boy had taken his life. For what reason I do not know I probably never will know. I don't understand how someone who loved life & family so much could be so alone & so sad that their only way of dealing with whatever was wrong was to die. I never did become a hairdresser!
From as far back as I can remember when anybody asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I wanted to be a Mum or a hairdresser! Just one month after my sixteenth birthday I found out that I had satisfied one of my dreams, as I was to become a Mum with my baby being due in October. The year was 1974 & people still looked down on unmarried mothers, so in July 1974 I was married in Mum's lounge room to Colin.On October 23rd at 11.37pm my beautiful little boy was born, he weighed 7lbs 14ozs & we named him Darren. Darren wasn't well so was taken to the "Special Care Nursery". I didn't get to hold him or feed him for nearly 24 hours.Darren was perfect in every way possible & he was now my life. He needed me for every thing & if there is any such thing as a perfect baby it was Darren. He slept through the night from about six weeks & reached all his milestones as expected.Although my marriage was not very good, over the next ten years I went on to have four more children. After the birth of Scott in 1984 my marriage ended & the kids & I moved on. Colin & his family virtually had no contact with the kids from day one.I met my second husband Brian in late 1984 & we married on May 14 1988 with all five kids being in the bridal party. We were a family in every sense of the word with the kids asking Brian if they could call him Dad & if they could use his last name also. In 1989 Brian & I had a daughter & our family was now complete.There was always something about Darren that made him special I don't know what it was but he was just a great person. He did all the kid things getting into trouble & the like but was always so close to me. He grew up to be the kind of person you wanted to be friends with & we had a hard time keeping the girlfriends at bay. He raced a car at the motor drome; mind you he didn't even have a car licence at that stage. He built a billy cart & entered "The Mattara Billy Cart Derby" he made page 2 of the Newcastle Herald. He worked with us in our courier business & finally got a truck licence so he could take over from me & I could retire, life was great for us all.Darren came to me in 1993 to tell me he was to become a Dad. Darren's son Dillon was born in March 1994 he was our first grandson & so much like his Dad. I was present at Dillon's birth to share that very special moment with Darren & Renee.In 1995 Darren met a new girl Tara & they married in 1996 she was nice & had time for Dillon which we thought was great, but things started to change & Darren became distanced from us all & wouldn't even see Dillon. I let it pass thinking it was just teething problems with his new wife but things didn't get any better, Darren just became more & more distanced from all of us not even coming for Christmas or birthdays. Something was terribly wrong, but I couldn't find out anything.After not seeing Darren for Mothers Day 1999 I decided it was time to bite the bullet & find out what I had done that was so bad that he had to walk away from his whole family. Brian & I went to Darren's house he opened the door shocked but pleased to see us, but not Tara she was standing against the sink & her body language said everything. I asked Darren what I had done to hurt him, he put his head down, shrugged his shoulders & started to cry, Tara on the other hand said if we didn't f****n know, she wasn't about to tell us, we stayed about another five minutes before Tara started ranting & raving & told me to get out of her f****n house & never f*****n come back. I picked up my bag & Brian & I left. I have never returned to the house. I knew I had lost my beautiful son.On September 13 2006 at about 10pm our phone rang, Lauren answered & said it was Mark & he wanted to speak to me I took the phone this person says "Faye it's Mark, Tara's stepfather, are you sitting down, I said no, he then said oh well Darren's just done himself in" my life as I knew it had now changed forever!My beautiful baby boy had taken his life. For what reason I do not know I probably never will know. I don't understand how someone who loved life & family so much could be so alone & so sad that their only way of dealing with whatever was wrong was to die. I never did become a hairdresser!
My Journey - Genelle Chup 'Robbo' Adam David Robertson02/07/1984 - 22/04/2001
I'm six nearly seven long years along on my so called 'journey' without my son Adam. The only way I can describe what it has been like for me is to compare it in some way to a roller coaster ride. Sometimes I am up and sometimes I am down and when I am down it is like being in a big black hole that I have to crawl my way out of.The pain and the grief I feel today is as real as the pain and grief I felt on the night I was told that Adam had died and I miss him as much today as I did back then. However, and this is important for those people that have experienced a recent loss, I can now crawl my way out of that big black hole much quicker than I used to be able to and I have learnt how to recognise when I am heading in a downwards spiral and I have also learnt what I need to do to turn that around.Sometimes it works and sometimes it just doesn't but I have also learnt to accept that that's okay and that's where I need to be at that particular point in time.I used to feel guilty about being down and being upset and not being able to deal with the simple day to day tasks that need to be done but not anymore. I don't hold my feelings in anymore and if I feel the need to cy then I cry because I will feel the pain of losing Adam for the rest of my life and that's okay too because he was loved so very much in this earthly life that it would be unthinkable that one day I wouldn't feel that pain or wouldn't feel the need to cry anymore.I didn't get to this place where I am overnight and it has taken a lot of hard work to reach it but I have also had a lot of help along the way. I had a lot of counselling and didn't just settle for any counsellor but searched until I found one that I had a really good rapport with and that's very important if counselling is going to be a success, I have the most loving and supportive family I could ever ask for and I have a wonderful network of caring and understanding friends. I have a close network of mums with whom I am in contact with on a regular basis from the states that have lost a child and I have the love, the support and patience of 2 very special men.....my youngest son Nick and my fiancée Michael. There have been numerous turning points for me along the way and I could talk for hours about them but there is one major turning point I would like to mention but before I do I would like to give you a little bit of background.My two boys were being driven home from a family dinner by their dad when he lost control of his car on a wet road and slammed into a tree. Adam was 16 years old and my youngest son Nicholas was just 12. Adam died on impact and Nicholas was trapped in the wreckage for 2.5 hours. Nick had numerous injuries and was in hospital for over 2 weeks and came home to a hospital bed in our lounge room. For a number of weeks Nick needed around the clock care which gave me very little time to think at any great length about anything as he couldn't bear to have me out of his sight. I cannot begin to imagine what he was going through and what he went through at the accident scene that night and due to Nicks needs coming first the so called grieving process for me was delayed for quite some time. When I did crash some 18 months later I had lots of questions because it wasn't enough for me to just know and just accept that Adam had died in a car accident....I wanted to know what happened to my son to cause his death. Hence came the first major turning point for me because I got those answers. I chased up a copy of Adams autopsy report and that in itself answered some questions but it also opened up others so I phoned a good friend. That friend is Paul Alexander who was the ambulance officer that stayed in the car with Nick when he was trapped and attended to his physical and emotional needs. Paul is my real life angel...because he was there for my son when I couldn't be and it is the one time in his life he needed me the most. I will be eternally grateful to Paul for everything he has done for us and continues to do. Paul was able to answer a lot of the questions I had about the autopsy report and about the sequence of events at the accident scene. It was the first time I fully understood how badly Nick was trapped and how very lucky he is to be alive today. It was the first time I fully appreciated the strength and courage that my youngest son displayed both on that horrible night and over the years and even today. That was a very big turning point for me because if Nick could show that much strength and courage at such a young age and despite all he had been through then I could strive to do the same. Nick is still battling with a leg injury but rarely complains and always has a smile on his face and does all he can to make those around him feel loved and happy and I try to do the same. However he is much better at it than me and as unfair as it may seem he is my rock...he is my piece of solid ground and no one can lift me up on my darkest days like he can.Adam was three months into an apprenticeship as a fitter and turner at the time of his death and the love of his life was Rodeo. He loved riding the steers and bulls and every March there is a memorial steer ride in Adams name at the Reg Lindsay Rodeo at Cessnock where the winner receives a trophy buckle in Adams honour. This years rodeo is on the 15th March and I always look forward to the day because his life is publicly acknowledged which makes me very proud as a mother but more than that it is a day when I get the opportunity to catch up with some his rodeo friends and be a part of something he loved in life.
I'm six nearly seven long years along on my so called 'journey' without my son Adam. The only way I can describe what it has been like for me is to compare it in some way to a roller coaster ride. Sometimes I am up and sometimes I am down and when I am down it is like being in a big black hole that I have to crawl my way out of.The pain and the grief I feel today is as real as the pain and grief I felt on the night I was told that Adam had died and I miss him as much today as I did back then. However, and this is important for those people that have experienced a recent loss, I can now crawl my way out of that big black hole much quicker than I used to be able to and I have learnt how to recognise when I am heading in a downwards spiral and I have also learnt what I need to do to turn that around.Sometimes it works and sometimes it just doesn't but I have also learnt to accept that that's okay and that's where I need to be at that particular point in time.I used to feel guilty about being down and being upset and not being able to deal with the simple day to day tasks that need to be done but not anymore. I don't hold my feelings in anymore and if I feel the need to cy then I cry because I will feel the pain of losing Adam for the rest of my life and that's okay too because he was loved so very much in this earthly life that it would be unthinkable that one day I wouldn't feel that pain or wouldn't feel the need to cry anymore.I didn't get to this place where I am overnight and it has taken a lot of hard work to reach it but I have also had a lot of help along the way. I had a lot of counselling and didn't just settle for any counsellor but searched until I found one that I had a really good rapport with and that's very important if counselling is going to be a success, I have the most loving and supportive family I could ever ask for and I have a wonderful network of caring and understanding friends. I have a close network of mums with whom I am in contact with on a regular basis from the states that have lost a child and I have the love, the support and patience of 2 very special men.....my youngest son Nick and my fiancée Michael. There have been numerous turning points for me along the way and I could talk for hours about them but there is one major turning point I would like to mention but before I do I would like to give you a little bit of background.My two boys were being driven home from a family dinner by their dad when he lost control of his car on a wet road and slammed into a tree. Adam was 16 years old and my youngest son Nicholas was just 12. Adam died on impact and Nicholas was trapped in the wreckage for 2.5 hours. Nick had numerous injuries and was in hospital for over 2 weeks and came home to a hospital bed in our lounge room. For a number of weeks Nick needed around the clock care which gave me very little time to think at any great length about anything as he couldn't bear to have me out of his sight. I cannot begin to imagine what he was going through and what he went through at the accident scene that night and due to Nicks needs coming first the so called grieving process for me was delayed for quite some time. When I did crash some 18 months later I had lots of questions because it wasn't enough for me to just know and just accept that Adam had died in a car accident....I wanted to know what happened to my son to cause his death. Hence came the first major turning point for me because I got those answers. I chased up a copy of Adams autopsy report and that in itself answered some questions but it also opened up others so I phoned a good friend. That friend is Paul Alexander who was the ambulance officer that stayed in the car with Nick when he was trapped and attended to his physical and emotional needs. Paul is my real life angel...because he was there for my son when I couldn't be and it is the one time in his life he needed me the most. I will be eternally grateful to Paul for everything he has done for us and continues to do. Paul was able to answer a lot of the questions I had about the autopsy report and about the sequence of events at the accident scene. It was the first time I fully understood how badly Nick was trapped and how very lucky he is to be alive today. It was the first time I fully appreciated the strength and courage that my youngest son displayed both on that horrible night and over the years and even today. That was a very big turning point for me because if Nick could show that much strength and courage at such a young age and despite all he had been through then I could strive to do the same. Nick is still battling with a leg injury but rarely complains and always has a smile on his face and does all he can to make those around him feel loved and happy and I try to do the same. However he is much better at it than me and as unfair as it may seem he is my rock...he is my piece of solid ground and no one can lift me up on my darkest days like he can.Adam was three months into an apprenticeship as a fitter and turner at the time of his death and the love of his life was Rodeo. He loved riding the steers and bulls and every March there is a memorial steer ride in Adams name at the Reg Lindsay Rodeo at Cessnock where the winner receives a trophy buckle in Adams honour. This years rodeo is on the 15th March and I always look forward to the day because his life is publicly acknowledged which makes me very proud as a mother but more than that it is a day when I get the opportunity to catch up with some his rodeo friends and be a part of something he loved in life.
This is a story from one of our Queensland mum's Erica.
She had a little girl called Ruth who was born with multible disabilities but lived for 7 odd years in our world before she passed on in 1988. Ruthie as we knew her was also a very knowing little girl and had special ways of communicating with her Mum even though she couldn't see or talk but she communicated in her own way. Butterflies are Erica's symbol of Ruthie.
ERICA'S STORY.
It was two weeks or so before Christmas and I was shopping for gifts in the City and remembered reading in the Brisbane News about the Wintergarden having a promotional Christmas thing happening which featured butterflies. When the Wintergarden was being refurbished they had a theme of three large butterflies on their roof which really touched me when I first caught sight of them and they also advertised a secret butterfly garden which I have never found or seen when looking for it previously. All their promotional material etc. for the Wintergarden always has a fairy and a butterfly.Now back to the story, I decided whilst in the City I was going to the Wintergarden and while walking up the Brisbane Mall all the surrounding gardens in the middle of Mall had cardboard colourful array of butterflies attached to a small plastic stem stick. It was as I mentioned above a promotional thing happening for Christmas and you picked one of these butterflies and took it to the secret butterfly garden and you could win a Christmas gift of a voucher ranging from $10 to $1,000. Whoa, I thought Ruthie is going to give me a Christmas gift. I was so happy walking up carrying this butterfly so convinced that I was going to win something and found the secret garden, which was a small shop in the Wintergarden which was full of live pot plants and small shrubs with more of these colourful butterflies stuck in the plants, on the walls, in cages etc. You then exchanged this butterfly for another from the garden and this one had a number on it and you handed this over to the counter and they looked up the number to see if you had won a prize. I looked around all the different colourful butterflies and decided to choose a pink one as Ruthie's colour was pink. I stood in line and the woman in front of me won $50 the man in front of her won $100 and I was so excited and convinced that I was also going to get something, I handed over my butterfly and the guy looked up the number and said "SORRY, NOT A WINNER" you can go into the second chance draw which is $1,000 and drawn on the 2nd of January. In my mind my thoughts were running through WHAT! I can't believe it, I really can't believe this!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Butterflies/Ruthie are always so closely connected and a sign that she is around and near and it was Christmas and I was so sure that Ruthie was going to give her Mum a gift.Then I thought I have picked the wrong colour butterfly I should have picked another!!! You are only allowed one butterfly per customer per day. Ha, I thought, on the way back they won't remember who I am and I will pick another one and so on I went and rushed around doing all the Christmas shopping etc. And so I am back at the Wintergarden, saying a prayer that I pick the right one this time and this thought came to mind about this guy that I had seen on TV speaking of his death experience and how he saw the bright light and beautiful orange coloured butterflies, so I chose an orange one this time, marching up to the counter with all the excited expectations of winning and the guy says again "SORRY, NOT A WINNER"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHOA! I thought this time, what is going on!!! I can't believe and understand this!!!!!!!!!!!!Walking away to catch the bus home I kept on thinking and talking to Ruthie saying I really can't believe I didn't get anything!!! I boarded the bus home and told Ruthie how disappointed I was that she didn't give me this Christmas gift. I then heard a gentle and loving voice saying " JUST BE PATIENT, MUM"!!!!!I get home dumped all the Christmas shopping and by this time I have a full blown headache (picked the right day for shopping - it was 40 outside and very humid) so I got a cold glass of water, panadol and went outside to sit on my prayer stool to have a little rest. I was only their a couple of minutes and looked up to see these white butterflies only about 1 inch in size and the edges of their wings were black. I counted about 5, 6, 10, 12, then 20, 30, 40 - I then jumped up and looked over to where they were coming from and saw swarms and swarms and swarms of them (I don't know what they call a lot of butterflies). They are coming from the pool side area and flying across the terrace. Landing on the shrubs, outside our apartment, landing on the grass and then flying on and then more and more are flying by. By this stage I just can't believe what I am seeing and am running around like a mad woman all over terrace and looking up to see if anyone else is around to point out this magnificent splendour and nobody is around. They are still coming and coming - I have never, ever seen so many butterflies all at once. There were hundreds and hundreds. I then quickly ran for my Iphone to take a photo and they still kept coming and coming in swarms, some landed on the wall so I took a photo and ran around the terrace to take more photos and then I phoned my sister to tell her what was happening and told her the above story etc. and she said Ruthie is saying to her Mum, I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Even as I was speaking to my sister the butterflies still kept flying past. There must have been hundreds and hundreds - I did give up counting them after 30.WHAT AN AWSOME CHRISTMAS GIFT FROM OUR BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY, RUTHIE. It is one I will always cherish and treasure in my heart - Ruthie was never of this world - I should have known material things meant nothing to her - she had something far more special to give her Mum for Christmas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Can you believe when I downloaded the photos - NOT ONE BUTTERFLY IN ALL THE PHOTOS. All the photos were clear and well taken and even the close up of the butterfly on the wall did not show up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Vera and her son Alex
Co-Founder Elvira's Story
Bobby Max Bajric 29.4.1986 - 29.4.2000 From the Cradle to the Grave
We planed this precious child, after having a many years of complications conceiving, my Gynecologist, announces to me "Congratulations, you're approximately 2 weeks pregnant.I could hardly believe my ears, I couldn't wait to tell his dad, I'd waited all day & I didn't want to tell anybody else until I had told his dad & when Bobby's dad finally got home late that afternoon, I'd built myself up with so much anxiety, that soon after I'd told him I started to have a bleed & before I knew it I was put into Western Suburbs Hospital at Waratah & Dr was standing next to me saying "I think you may be miscarrying"My head was reeling, how could this be happing, only hours previously I was floating on a cloud & so excited about being pregnant & now I found myself totally shattered, from one extreme of emotions to another. I heard myself talking to my unborn child & begging him to hang on to dear life, to hold on to his God's hand & not let go.I think he must of heard me because seven days later the Dr said that my baby was fine that we could go home & to thank our lucky stars that our baby was safe, but I think that it was much more then luck that was working in our lives that week.While I was in hospital that week I started writing a diary to fill in my stay, I talked to my baby through that diary of everything I was experiencing while I was pregnant with him so I wouldn't forget those feelings, I'm so glad I did that now, because when he grew old enough ,I would read this to him as if it where a story book, I had photo's in this book of the cousins that used to hug my belly while I was carrying him,& of other family events that where happening of the time of our pregnancy.Even in pregnancy my baby hardly moved in my womb, every monthly visit to the Dr's I'd inform him of this & the Dr would jokingly say "Perhaps the baby is saving all it's energy for when it comes out" all the vital signs where always perfect, the scans showed that he was growing perfectly & he always had a good strong heart beat.On the 29th April -1986 I went into labor vaguely remember a howling ringing in my ears just moments before my Bobby came into the world, almost as if a wolf was howling in a far of distant place.The umbilical cord was caught around his throat & the Dr had to do an emergency forceps & stirrups delivery because my baby was in high stress & after 12 hours of labor my first born child was put into my arms, a little bruised & a couple of lumps & bumps on his head where the forceps clamped him, but otherwise he was safe & sound.I already had his name picked out "Bobby Max" there was hardly a cry when he entered the world & even when our eyes where locked into each others, there was no crying sounds, no whimpering from this precious little boy, I placed my index finger into his tiny perfect hand & he locked his little fingers around it, I looked into his dark little eyes that seemed to be studying me & I whispered to him "Well...G'day little mate.....welcome to the big world, I've been waiting for you for such a very long time" I thought I seen a smirk in the corner of his lip which turned into a smile, as if he was saying,"Thanks Ma,glad we made it".We kept looking at each other for what seemed to be the longest time, he seemed to know me, as if he'd been here in another time or in another life, he had a look in his eyes of what seemed to me of a wise old man ,as if he knew something that I didn't, perhaps he knew way back then that he was going to only be here for a short time, as a matter of fact he only stay on this plane for 14 years to the day that he was born.These are my memories of my precious lovable little rogue & that's what he was, he wasn't perfect, he was just like any other kid, he got into mischief, the older he got the more mischief he got into, but never anything that would hurt me or his little brother Alex, he loved being a big brother, matter of fact, I never noticed it until after Bobby's passing but when I went through all our photo's he always had a protective arm around his little brother, there was so many photo's of just like that.My youngest son Alex was the product of a prayer, Bobby was about 2 years old when he asked if "We could go to the shop & bye a little brother" I told Bobby then that he, I & daddy (Alex's dad, Tony) had to pray to our God for this special little brother & so we did, the 3 of us would get on the edge of Bobbies bed on our knee's, just before he would go to bed & the three of us would pray to our God for this little baby.There is exactly 2 years & 9 months between my two boys, Bobby was around 2-ish when he asked for a little brother, Alex was born on the 11th of January-1989....there is approximately 10 months of pregnancy....you do the math.Why did I just focus on the life of Bobby?............well, you see......my son wasn't in an accident, he didn't commit suicide, he wasn't murdered, there was no-one to blame, there wasn't anything that I could use as a whipping pole, Bobby had "MIOCARDITIS" an undetectable virus, that shuts down the heart.After the autopsy came back they said that this type of virus can not be detected, no matter how many tests that Specialist's would of done, that it was highly unlikely that it would be detected if the person was alive at the time of the testing.As in the case of one lady that was the very first person that contacted me, only 3 months after her 15 year old son passed away with exactly the same thing that my Bobby had.She had been to a clairvoyant who said to her "You need to take your son to the Dr's & leave no stone unturned", my friend was a nurse & she did as the clairvoyant suggested, she had every know test to man done on her son & every test came back clear & yet a couple of months later her precious son died.
We planed this precious child, after having a many years of complications conceiving, my Gynecologist, announces to me "Congratulations, you're approximately 2 weeks pregnant.I could hardly believe my ears, I couldn't wait to tell his dad, I'd waited all day & I didn't want to tell anybody else until I had told his dad & when Bobby's dad finally got home late that afternoon, I'd built myself up with so much anxiety, that soon after I'd told him I started to have a bleed & before I knew it I was put into Western Suburbs Hospital at Waratah & Dr was standing next to me saying "I think you may be miscarrying"My head was reeling, how could this be happing, only hours previously I was floating on a cloud & so excited about being pregnant & now I found myself totally shattered, from one extreme of emotions to another. I heard myself talking to my unborn child & begging him to hang on to dear life, to hold on to his God's hand & not let go.I think he must of heard me because seven days later the Dr said that my baby was fine that we could go home & to thank our lucky stars that our baby was safe, but I think that it was much more then luck that was working in our lives that week.While I was in hospital that week I started writing a diary to fill in my stay, I talked to my baby through that diary of everything I was experiencing while I was pregnant with him so I wouldn't forget those feelings, I'm so glad I did that now, because when he grew old enough ,I would read this to him as if it where a story book, I had photo's in this book of the cousins that used to hug my belly while I was carrying him,& of other family events that where happening of the time of our pregnancy.Even in pregnancy my baby hardly moved in my womb, every monthly visit to the Dr's I'd inform him of this & the Dr would jokingly say "Perhaps the baby is saving all it's energy for when it comes out" all the vital signs where always perfect, the scans showed that he was growing perfectly & he always had a good strong heart beat.On the 29th April -1986 I went into labor vaguely remember a howling ringing in my ears just moments before my Bobby came into the world, almost as if a wolf was howling in a far of distant place.The umbilical cord was caught around his throat & the Dr had to do an emergency forceps & stirrups delivery because my baby was in high stress & after 12 hours of labor my first born child was put into my arms, a little bruised & a couple of lumps & bumps on his head where the forceps clamped him, but otherwise he was safe & sound.I already had his name picked out "Bobby Max" there was hardly a cry when he entered the world & even when our eyes where locked into each others, there was no crying sounds, no whimpering from this precious little boy, I placed my index finger into his tiny perfect hand & he locked his little fingers around it, I looked into his dark little eyes that seemed to be studying me & I whispered to him "Well...G'day little mate.....welcome to the big world, I've been waiting for you for such a very long time" I thought I seen a smirk in the corner of his lip which turned into a smile, as if he was saying,"Thanks Ma,glad we made it".We kept looking at each other for what seemed to be the longest time, he seemed to know me, as if he'd been here in another time or in another life, he had a look in his eyes of what seemed to me of a wise old man ,as if he knew something that I didn't, perhaps he knew way back then that he was going to only be here for a short time, as a matter of fact he only stay on this plane for 14 years to the day that he was born.These are my memories of my precious lovable little rogue & that's what he was, he wasn't perfect, he was just like any other kid, he got into mischief, the older he got the more mischief he got into, but never anything that would hurt me or his little brother Alex, he loved being a big brother, matter of fact, I never noticed it until after Bobby's passing but when I went through all our photo's he always had a protective arm around his little brother, there was so many photo's of just like that.My youngest son Alex was the product of a prayer, Bobby was about 2 years old when he asked if "We could go to the shop & bye a little brother" I told Bobby then that he, I & daddy (Alex's dad, Tony) had to pray to our God for this special little brother & so we did, the 3 of us would get on the edge of Bobbies bed on our knee's, just before he would go to bed & the three of us would pray to our God for this little baby.There is exactly 2 years & 9 months between my two boys, Bobby was around 2-ish when he asked for a little brother, Alex was born on the 11th of January-1989....there is approximately 10 months of pregnancy....you do the math.Why did I just focus on the life of Bobby?............well, you see......my son wasn't in an accident, he didn't commit suicide, he wasn't murdered, there was no-one to blame, there wasn't anything that I could use as a whipping pole, Bobby had "MIOCARDITIS" an undetectable virus, that shuts down the heart.After the autopsy came back they said that this type of virus can not be detected, no matter how many tests that Specialist's would of done, that it was highly unlikely that it would be detected if the person was alive at the time of the testing.As in the case of one lady that was the very first person that contacted me, only 3 months after her 15 year old son passed away with exactly the same thing that my Bobby had.She had been to a clairvoyant who said to her "You need to take your son to the Dr's & leave no stone unturned", my friend was a nurse & she did as the clairvoyant suggested, she had every know test to man done on her son & every test came back clear & yet a couple of months later her precious son died.
H.O.P.E MEMBERS STORIES
Sharon Coleman - My story.
I thought this would be easy to write but I was mistaken.My beautiful son Shane Rowarth was borne 23/07/82.At the time his big sister Jess was 16 months old. From the first time she saw him, she referred to him as "my baby". As they grew older their relationship changed to one of best friends and confidents. She loved him and their bond was amazing.Easter Monday 2005 was Jess's 24th birthday we were having fun and playing as usual.While we were playing my sister called me from Sydney asking me about the chest pain she was having. The ambulance was called, we arranged for friends close to her in Sydney to get her kids and a panicked dash to Sydney was organised.That was the beginning of the worst week off my life.As the week progressed my sister had many tests in Coronary Care Unit and she was slowly improving I had many conversations with Jess and Shane.It was my 30th anniversary dinner for my Nursing career the evening of the 2/04/05 and the birthday of my dear nursing friend who is also Shane's godmother.I had intended to travel back to Newcastle on Saturday and had arranged to meet up with Shane as I had not seen him since Monday.He still lived with me as I think he felt responsible for me since his father and I separated and divorced.I think I drove him crazy with the amount of times I told him I loved him over each day. Now I wonder know if I knew somewhere in my subconscious that something might happen.Shane attended a 21st birthday party for one of his friends on Friday night the 1/4/05. The party was coming to an end and one of their group arrived and offered to drive one of the girls home. It was just after midnight now Saturday the 2/4/05. She had wanted to call a taxi but the driver insisted on taking her home and Shane got in the front passenger seat to go for a drive to make sure she got home safely.Shane had been drinking and the driver had just arrived at the party. The female passenger was in the back of the car behind the driver.It was less than 10 minutes later Shane was killed. The driver was speeding along Kallaroo Rd at Redhead the car rolled on a corner. It continued to roll for some time and eventually hit a telegraph support pole. The car was hit right on the front passenger door, the pole split in two and the car landed upside down on the pole. My beautiful boy was gone.The police came to my home address to find Jess home alone to take the news. Jess didn't live with us but for some reason stayed there that night. She then called me as I was still in Sydney. I spoke to the police. I don't remember much of the call I just wanted to get home. I was driven home by a friend of my sisters. It seemed like it took for ever. My brother and friend went to be with Jess. She was devastated, I think over the next few days she slowly shut down. The next days were such a blur. There were so many people in and out of the house. It felt like everyone wanted something and I had nothing to give. I felt like nothing I had ever felt before. The pain was indescribable; I just put one foot in front of the other, and tried to remember to breath, just breath. It was something I am sure you all understand.I wanted someone to wake me up and tell me it was just a dream, a night mare but they didn't, it wasn't, it was reality and something I would have to relive the rest of my life. On Sunday I had to go to the morgue to identify Shane. Jess couldn't come she wanted me to go and call her a say it was a mistake. No matter how much I wanted to tell her it wasn't Shane I couldn't because it was Shane. I had terrible pictures in my mind about how I thought he would look as I knew that he had taken the full impact of the crash. I just wanted to hold him. It was very grateful that he was still beautiful; he had a depressed fracture of his skull and a fractured femur. In the next few days there were funeral arrangements, arguments with the coroner over the post-mortem and the contacts from the papers.We were taken through the crash scenario at the crash site by the attending police who were investigating the crash. We also went to the warehouse were the car was held. I suppose we needed the reinforcement that this was real. I arranged a viewing of Shane for his friends so they had an opportunity to say goodbye and write him letters to put in his coffin. I had been with so many other people when they had died and relatives who had lost loved ones and given them suggestions, that I suppose I was in work mode at this stage. The pain, the distress, the disbelief was nothing like I had ever experienced before; and there were so many people telling me what I should do and some how I should be thinking and acting. Things got to a point where I hid in the bathroom to escape everyone, I was so distressed. I thought it was going to explode. You just can't take any more just breathing was as much as you can bear, some time too much. I had walked beside friends who had lost children from various causes but did not understand where they were at untill I knew the pain myself.As time went on there was depression, the denial continued. I just wanted to die and be with my son. I remember lying on the lounge room floor with Jess and wishing we were with Shane. I know she felt it too. There were over 2 years of court appearances. During the whole process I felt like Shane was a piece of evidence and had no representation in court. There were so many lies told by the driver. We were able to give a victims impact statement at the time but the words were very controlled by the court system. The finally the driver was sent to jail. That bought me no peace or justice.Jess struggled for many years. Trying to run away from her grief and trying to cope with her mother who was grieving. I had always been the one who held everything together the strong one. The mother, the fixer of problems the person who would say it will be alright if we just work together. I felt like I had betrayed them both as clearly things were not going to be alright this time and I was broken. I had antidepressants, counselling and trips to the psychiatrist to try to get some peace or understanding or acceptance and round the circuit again. Survivor guilt overwhelmed me and I had lost the reason to live. I knew I would never take my own life but I was just waiting to die. It's only over the last 12 months that I have started to actively participate in life and not just go through the motions.In the beginning I didn't think things would ever improve but looking back I know they have. Its not that I miss him less or love him less it is just that I have decided to live. By living I can honour Shane's life and be here for my daughter Jess, her daughter Kyah and the rest of my family. There are times when you go back down the spiral again anniversaries, birthdays, family functions. Recently I had a car accident which bought a lot of the fears back again and it took quiet a while to drive the car. There will always be these ups and downs but the length of time it takes to recover is less now. I need now to have my brain functioning to full capacity, to remember things daily and to not to self sabotage my good intentions. Then learn to laugh and have fun like I used to when Shane was here. It's coming back slowly and I know he is watching us. I wouldn't be surprised if our children have bought us together to support each other at Hope. We have all come from different places, our journeys are so varied and we are all at different stages of the loss of our children but we all have the same pain. There are no rules on this journey each person can follow their own path. If you need to cry and not participate in life then that is alright for you. If you don't cry and continue as usual then this is also alright. We all need to do whatever it takes to get through our own path.Don't forget about your partners or about your surviving children because they are grieving too. They can sometimes find it difficult to show their true feelings when they see you are in so much distress yourself. I have found that the love of family and friends does really get you through. Hope is about helping other parents exist but more than that it does show that you can go on after the death of a child, there is "Hope" that you can find a reason to go on with life. It's a matter of finding our path. It is not the path that was designed when our children were born but a new direction. I am so glad that he was in my life. Shane would be 27 on the 23rd of July and we will celebrate as a family to give thanks that we were blessed to have had him in our lives. Shane brought so much joy to our lives.I know above all else that Shane is watching over us now and I thank god everyday that I was blessed to have my beautiful boy in my life.Shane Gary Rowarth 23/07/82 to 2/04/05 (know as Wheelz by his friends) was killed in a car accident at age 22 years.Forever loved by his family and friends.Robyn and Robert Walker
We have lived at Martins Creek, on the family property, for the last 23 years. I insisted on moving into our, almost finished, renovated house just before Christmas 1984, one month before our second son Phillip was born. Stephen, our eldest was just two and a half at the time. Our family was soon complete with our two beautiful boys.On Wednesday 5th April 2005 our lives were changed forever. Phillip was just 21 years young when he had been drinking at The Paterson Tavern and was apparently given a lift to Raymond Terrace. At about 11pm that night he was left, in the middle of nowhere, with 10 kilometres to walk. He somehow managed to walk almost 2 klms when he laid down, or passed out, on the road. He was run over and fortunately killed instantly.There has never been any doubt in our minds that Phillip's death was an accident and we feel deeply for Kim who unfortunately was driving on that road at that time. It is why he was there that is hard to understand.We first heard about his death on the news when our alarm went off at 6:30am Thursday. "An unidentified male, aged between 20 and 30 years was run over and killed last night while lying on the road at Nelsons Plains."We both probably knew instinctively then, but it wasn't till 6:45 that night that I rang the police and said, "Have you identified that male who was run over? I think it is my son." That was the hardest phone call of my life. It was him, and our lives changed forever.The police investigation into our son's death was a farce and the two men who left him in the middle of nowhere weren't interviewed until six months later.I wrote to the Raymond Terrace Coroner in January 2007 insisting on an inquest and hopefully, some answers. The inquest was held on Tuesday 4th December 2007, the day of our HOPE meeting and 20 months after Phillip's death. Despite the attempts by our solicitor and the Police Prosecutor in questioning the two men, we still don't know how or why Phillip was left to walk 10 kilometres to Raymond Terrace at 11pm at night. We probably never will find the answers we need.The inquest was closed with a finding of accidental death and a recommendation that country pubs and taverns are better policed regarding the Responsible Service of Alcohol. Particularly considering the isolation, lack of alternative transport and minimal police.The inquest was a turning point for me. I think that now I can accept that I will never know how or why Phillip was left in the middle of nowhere.I then went into physical and mental shock and couldn't function for several days. BUT I can now look at photos of Phillip and really see my son for the first time since his death. Several amazing things have come out of Phillip's death.The extended Walker family has strengths we never knew about. We are together as a family now on a weekly basis, no longer just because it is the thing to do at Christmas or birthdays and that we have to.We have learnt that family truly is everything and that they will always be there for you. We have also learnt that they don't have to be but want to because they truly care.Phillip has a beautiful Goddaughter, Lucy who was just three when he died. She lives in a lovely big home with her Mum and Dad, Gen and Mick, and big brother Dylan. Also her Grandparents, Chris and Col. This family have been our saving grace, as they were also for Phillip. I don't know where or how we would be today, without them.They allowed us to stay and celebrate the first Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with our "other family". They made sure we weren't alone on the first anniversary. They send sms's just to say "we are thinking of you today" and send lots of love. They always make us smile. We are always welcome in their home and in their hearts.It is the children, Lucy and Dylan though who make the difference. They accept us unconditionally and they give us pure love with lots of hugs. They often mention Phillip and we know that he, and now us, will always be an important part of their lives.Phillip last saw Lucy, and the family, just after Lucy's 3rd birthday, on the 1st April 2006, when he gave her a birthday present. On her 4th birthday, we celebrated with her at her party. We will never forget this joyous day. Towards the end of the party, she grabbed one of the helium filled balloons and talking away, ran outside. There was something about her that made us all follow. In the middle of the yard she released her balloon into the sky and said, "That one's Uncle Phil's!" a truly special moment we will never forget.The HOPE meetings have surprised me. We went along to the first one and I wasn't sure that they would be "the thing for me". I was touched by the amazing differences in the stories and our common grief. Each new meeting surprises me. I attend with no real expectation of gaining anything in particular from the meeting, but always do. I should know better by now, but maybe that is part of the grief, never hoping for understanding or being able to simply smile.Each meeting is different. Some leave me invigorated, I can go on with my life. Others with very deep feelings that need time to resolve. I am always amazed by the resilience of other members of this special club. I will continue to attend and gain by the love and support that is at these meetings. Thank you dearly, Michelle and Vera. I hope one day I will be able to reach out to others as you have to us. Roby Tuesday 8 January 2008.
I thought this would be easy to write but I was mistaken.My beautiful son Shane Rowarth was borne 23/07/82.At the time his big sister Jess was 16 months old. From the first time she saw him, she referred to him as "my baby". As they grew older their relationship changed to one of best friends and confidents. She loved him and their bond was amazing.Easter Monday 2005 was Jess's 24th birthday we were having fun and playing as usual.While we were playing my sister called me from Sydney asking me about the chest pain she was having. The ambulance was called, we arranged for friends close to her in Sydney to get her kids and a panicked dash to Sydney was organised.That was the beginning of the worst week off my life.As the week progressed my sister had many tests in Coronary Care Unit and she was slowly improving I had many conversations with Jess and Shane.It was my 30th anniversary dinner for my Nursing career the evening of the 2/04/05 and the birthday of my dear nursing friend who is also Shane's godmother.I had intended to travel back to Newcastle on Saturday and had arranged to meet up with Shane as I had not seen him since Monday.He still lived with me as I think he felt responsible for me since his father and I separated and divorced.I think I drove him crazy with the amount of times I told him I loved him over each day. Now I wonder know if I knew somewhere in my subconscious that something might happen.Shane attended a 21st birthday party for one of his friends on Friday night the 1/4/05. The party was coming to an end and one of their group arrived and offered to drive one of the girls home. It was just after midnight now Saturday the 2/4/05. She had wanted to call a taxi but the driver insisted on taking her home and Shane got in the front passenger seat to go for a drive to make sure she got home safely.Shane had been drinking and the driver had just arrived at the party. The female passenger was in the back of the car behind the driver.It was less than 10 minutes later Shane was killed. The driver was speeding along Kallaroo Rd at Redhead the car rolled on a corner. It continued to roll for some time and eventually hit a telegraph support pole. The car was hit right on the front passenger door, the pole split in two and the car landed upside down on the pole. My beautiful boy was gone.The police came to my home address to find Jess home alone to take the news. Jess didn't live with us but for some reason stayed there that night. She then called me as I was still in Sydney. I spoke to the police. I don't remember much of the call I just wanted to get home. I was driven home by a friend of my sisters. It seemed like it took for ever. My brother and friend went to be with Jess. She was devastated, I think over the next few days she slowly shut down. The next days were such a blur. There were so many people in and out of the house. It felt like everyone wanted something and I had nothing to give. I felt like nothing I had ever felt before. The pain was indescribable; I just put one foot in front of the other, and tried to remember to breath, just breath. It was something I am sure you all understand.I wanted someone to wake me up and tell me it was just a dream, a night mare but they didn't, it wasn't, it was reality and something I would have to relive the rest of my life. On Sunday I had to go to the morgue to identify Shane. Jess couldn't come she wanted me to go and call her a say it was a mistake. No matter how much I wanted to tell her it wasn't Shane I couldn't because it was Shane. I had terrible pictures in my mind about how I thought he would look as I knew that he had taken the full impact of the crash. I just wanted to hold him. It was very grateful that he was still beautiful; he had a depressed fracture of his skull and a fractured femur. In the next few days there were funeral arrangements, arguments with the coroner over the post-mortem and the contacts from the papers.We were taken through the crash scenario at the crash site by the attending police who were investigating the crash. We also went to the warehouse were the car was held. I suppose we needed the reinforcement that this was real. I arranged a viewing of Shane for his friends so they had an opportunity to say goodbye and write him letters to put in his coffin. I had been with so many other people when they had died and relatives who had lost loved ones and given them suggestions, that I suppose I was in work mode at this stage. The pain, the distress, the disbelief was nothing like I had ever experienced before; and there were so many people telling me what I should do and some how I should be thinking and acting. Things got to a point where I hid in the bathroom to escape everyone, I was so distressed. I thought it was going to explode. You just can't take any more just breathing was as much as you can bear, some time too much. I had walked beside friends who had lost children from various causes but did not understand where they were at untill I knew the pain myself.As time went on there was depression, the denial continued. I just wanted to die and be with my son. I remember lying on the lounge room floor with Jess and wishing we were with Shane. I know she felt it too. There were over 2 years of court appearances. During the whole process I felt like Shane was a piece of evidence and had no representation in court. There were so many lies told by the driver. We were able to give a victims impact statement at the time but the words were very controlled by the court system. The finally the driver was sent to jail. That bought me no peace or justice.Jess struggled for many years. Trying to run away from her grief and trying to cope with her mother who was grieving. I had always been the one who held everything together the strong one. The mother, the fixer of problems the person who would say it will be alright if we just work together. I felt like I had betrayed them both as clearly things were not going to be alright this time and I was broken. I had antidepressants, counselling and trips to the psychiatrist to try to get some peace or understanding or acceptance and round the circuit again. Survivor guilt overwhelmed me and I had lost the reason to live. I knew I would never take my own life but I was just waiting to die. It's only over the last 12 months that I have started to actively participate in life and not just go through the motions.In the beginning I didn't think things would ever improve but looking back I know they have. Its not that I miss him less or love him less it is just that I have decided to live. By living I can honour Shane's life and be here for my daughter Jess, her daughter Kyah and the rest of my family. There are times when you go back down the spiral again anniversaries, birthdays, family functions. Recently I had a car accident which bought a lot of the fears back again and it took quiet a while to drive the car. There will always be these ups and downs but the length of time it takes to recover is less now. I need now to have my brain functioning to full capacity, to remember things daily and to not to self sabotage my good intentions. Then learn to laugh and have fun like I used to when Shane was here. It's coming back slowly and I know he is watching us. I wouldn't be surprised if our children have bought us together to support each other at Hope. We have all come from different places, our journeys are so varied and we are all at different stages of the loss of our children but we all have the same pain. There are no rules on this journey each person can follow their own path. If you need to cry and not participate in life then that is alright for you. If you don't cry and continue as usual then this is also alright. We all need to do whatever it takes to get through our own path.Don't forget about your partners or about your surviving children because they are grieving too. They can sometimes find it difficult to show their true feelings when they see you are in so much distress yourself. I have found that the love of family and friends does really get you through. Hope is about helping other parents exist but more than that it does show that you can go on after the death of a child, there is "Hope" that you can find a reason to go on with life. It's a matter of finding our path. It is not the path that was designed when our children were born but a new direction. I am so glad that he was in my life. Shane would be 27 on the 23rd of July and we will celebrate as a family to give thanks that we were blessed to have had him in our lives. Shane brought so much joy to our lives.I know above all else that Shane is watching over us now and I thank god everyday that I was blessed to have my beautiful boy in my life.Shane Gary Rowarth 23/07/82 to 2/04/05 (know as Wheelz by his friends) was killed in a car accident at age 22 years.Forever loved by his family and friends.Robyn and Robert Walker
We have lived at Martins Creek, on the family property, for the last 23 years. I insisted on moving into our, almost finished, renovated house just before Christmas 1984, one month before our second son Phillip was born. Stephen, our eldest was just two and a half at the time. Our family was soon complete with our two beautiful boys.On Wednesday 5th April 2005 our lives were changed forever. Phillip was just 21 years young when he had been drinking at The Paterson Tavern and was apparently given a lift to Raymond Terrace. At about 11pm that night he was left, in the middle of nowhere, with 10 kilometres to walk. He somehow managed to walk almost 2 klms when he laid down, or passed out, on the road. He was run over and fortunately killed instantly.There has never been any doubt in our minds that Phillip's death was an accident and we feel deeply for Kim who unfortunately was driving on that road at that time. It is why he was there that is hard to understand.We first heard about his death on the news when our alarm went off at 6:30am Thursday. "An unidentified male, aged between 20 and 30 years was run over and killed last night while lying on the road at Nelsons Plains."We both probably knew instinctively then, but it wasn't till 6:45 that night that I rang the police and said, "Have you identified that male who was run over? I think it is my son." That was the hardest phone call of my life. It was him, and our lives changed forever.The police investigation into our son's death was a farce and the two men who left him in the middle of nowhere weren't interviewed until six months later.I wrote to the Raymond Terrace Coroner in January 2007 insisting on an inquest and hopefully, some answers. The inquest was held on Tuesday 4th December 2007, the day of our HOPE meeting and 20 months after Phillip's death. Despite the attempts by our solicitor and the Police Prosecutor in questioning the two men, we still don't know how or why Phillip was left to walk 10 kilometres to Raymond Terrace at 11pm at night. We probably never will find the answers we need.The inquest was closed with a finding of accidental death and a recommendation that country pubs and taverns are better policed regarding the Responsible Service of Alcohol. Particularly considering the isolation, lack of alternative transport and minimal police.The inquest was a turning point for me. I think that now I can accept that I will never know how or why Phillip was left in the middle of nowhere.I then went into physical and mental shock and couldn't function for several days. BUT I can now look at photos of Phillip and really see my son for the first time since his death. Several amazing things have come out of Phillip's death.The extended Walker family has strengths we never knew about. We are together as a family now on a weekly basis, no longer just because it is the thing to do at Christmas or birthdays and that we have to.We have learnt that family truly is everything and that they will always be there for you. We have also learnt that they don't have to be but want to because they truly care.Phillip has a beautiful Goddaughter, Lucy who was just three when he died. She lives in a lovely big home with her Mum and Dad, Gen and Mick, and big brother Dylan. Also her Grandparents, Chris and Col. This family have been our saving grace, as they were also for Phillip. I don't know where or how we would be today, without them.They allowed us to stay and celebrate the first Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with our "other family". They made sure we weren't alone on the first anniversary. They send sms's just to say "we are thinking of you today" and send lots of love. They always make us smile. We are always welcome in their home and in their hearts.It is the children, Lucy and Dylan though who make the difference. They accept us unconditionally and they give us pure love with lots of hugs. They often mention Phillip and we know that he, and now us, will always be an important part of their lives.Phillip last saw Lucy, and the family, just after Lucy's 3rd birthday, on the 1st April 2006, when he gave her a birthday present. On her 4th birthday, we celebrated with her at her party. We will never forget this joyous day. Towards the end of the party, she grabbed one of the helium filled balloons and talking away, ran outside. There was something about her that made us all follow. In the middle of the yard she released her balloon into the sky and said, "That one's Uncle Phil's!" a truly special moment we will never forget.The HOPE meetings have surprised me. We went along to the first one and I wasn't sure that they would be "the thing for me". I was touched by the amazing differences in the stories and our common grief. Each new meeting surprises me. I attend with no real expectation of gaining anything in particular from the meeting, but always do. I should know better by now, but maybe that is part of the grief, never hoping for understanding or being able to simply smile.Each meeting is different. Some leave me invigorated, I can go on with my life. Others with very deep feelings that need time to resolve. I am always amazed by the resilience of other members of this special club. I will continue to attend and gain by the love and support that is at these meetings. Thank you dearly, Michelle and Vera. I hope one day I will be able to reach out to others as you have to us. Roby Tuesday 8 January 2008.
