When I was seven years old my friend Dominic died of a brain tumour. He was the same age as me. This was my first experience of death and it left me, although I didn’t understand it, somewhat affected.

I remember my Daddy telling me that when he found out Dominic was ill he had fainted. I didn’t understand that either. I knew it was sad and I knew it was very, very scary but when Dominic passed away I remember just hoping that I might get to see my Daddy at the funeral as my parents were separated and he lived abroad, I didn’t understand. Dominic’s parents were long friends with mine so of course my Mum and I attended but my Father, in the end, couldn’t make it and I was sad on the day that he wasn’t going to be there. I just didn’t understand, at seven I think I can be forgiven.

I knew Dominic’s Mummy and Daddy were sad and I knew my Mum was crying a lot. It wasn’t until after the service that things started to really kick in for me. We went back to Dominic’s house and I remember his Mum showing me some of his hair she had in a locket. It became abundantly clear that this was real. Dominic was dead and I wasn’t ever going to see my friend again. I played with his sister and I remember sitting down in his bedroom on his bed. Suddenly I became gripped with fear and I remember it vividly. I thought that I might catch the brain tumour, that somehow, by sitting on his bed it might happen to me as well and then I would die too. I couldn’t ask anybody for reassurance that afternoon but I remember holding my breath as if this would somehow stop me catching whatever it was that had taken Dominic and made all the adults so very sad.

I may not have asked anybody for the reassurance that afternoon after the funeral but I made up for it in the rest of my childhood. It was as if from that day onwards I was fixated with brain tumours. I was terrified of them in fact. It stayed with me a long time and I think even now it is probably one of my major fears. I can’t help it, something happened to me that day and I could never get rid of it. Any little twinge, anyone else mentioning a head ache… I remember being about 19 and visiting the Doctor who before I’d even sat down had looked at me and reassured me it wasn’t a brain tumour – he knew me and knew what I was going to ask. I know I’m making myself seem absolutely nuts here but that first experience of someone passing away was just so utterly terrifying that even though it went completely over my head in one way, it scarred me for life in another.

My Grandparents died when I was much, much older. I was very lucky to have them as long as I did, I know most people don’t. Although it broke my heart when they died it was different to when Dominic was ill all those years ago. My Grandparents were old and they had lived lives. Not long enough of course, I would have them here forever naturally, but they had lived till they were old and Dominic hadn’t. I remember visiting my Grandma at the hospice she spent her last few days in having been cared for the majority of her short 9 week illness by my Mum at home and seeing a woman visiting her son who was about my age. I remember also seeing a girl, again about my age, visiting her Mum who was about the same age as my Mum. That wasn’t right. That was, like Dominic had been, the wrong order. At least when my beloved and much missed Grandma passed away it was in the right order. It was me, my Florence baby bump and my Mum visiting her and not her visiting one of us. In my head I’ve always been able to rationalise that in a way that I never could with Dominic.

I guess I’m not wildly religious but I do believe in something? I can’t put my finger on it but I pray when I need to and I know, KNOW, that there is an after life. We are not just here then we die and that’s it. I know that and I could spend hours of time explaining to you how and why I believe that but that’s not really the point of this post. Things have just happened which mean I know and I believe so. Perhaps I need to believe that but whatever, it’s what I do believe. I just don’t understand, still to this day how someone so young, with their whole lives ahead of them could be taken to heaven – and yes I believe in heaven. Whether it’s a traditional picture like the bible depicts or not I don’t know but I do believe we go somewhere else and that it’s a heaven.

I guess I’ll never fully understand death, will anyone of us? Why it happens, why it can be so unfair? Why it will leave permanent scars on everyone it touches. I won’t ever forget Dominic, not ever, I couldn’t ever do that. He and his passing were such a major thing that happened in my life. Perhaps we would have lost touch had he lived but he didn’t so he is permanently etched on my being and that experience formed so much of an impression on me.

I would usually write at the end of each week a post about something I’m passionate about, something which has been bugging me or that I have an opinion on and then at the end of that post I will write a bit about what I’ve been up to, but I haven’t been able to write the past couple of weeks like that because something happened which has formed another etched scar and I haven’t been able to think of a single thing to write about. I have written posts of reviews and competitions, things I had agreed to write for other people but I haven’t been able to write anything else. I will go back to writing my normal blog posts but I had to write this one first…

I heard very recently that my friend and fellow blogger Jennie from the Edspire blog sadly lost her baby girl who was just 9 months old.  The same age as Jimmy. I have been able to think of very little since I heard this terribly sad news and my thoughts and prayers have been with Jennie constantly. When I heard about her Matilda Mae my breath was taken away and I felt like I might faint. Just as my Dad did when he found out about Dominic. As a child I hadn’t understood the implications just a little of the terror. As an adult I understand what has happened and I hate it. I try not to use the word hate because it’s too awful a word but this news I hate. I hate it with a passion that such tragedy could befall someone and I have cried for Jennie daily, I wish her pain could be whisked away. She is amazing. An amazing woman who is dealing with her pain through words. I read every one that she writes. The only way I can support her and show that I care is to do that. There are no words that could come from me to comfort her so reading hers is all I can do to say Jennie, I care and god bless you.

I spent time with Jennie and her family when we were both pregnant. I met her at the Baby Show when we were both 30 weeks and VIP Baby Show Bloggers – we were just a day apart on our due dates. When I was invited to go on a maternity retreat later on and asked did I know any other bloggers who might like to go it was Jennie I thought of and we had a lovely weekend preparing for our second labours. We both ended up giving birth on the same day and then I have thought of her lots since because of the shared common ground. We’ve spoken from time to time and I remember seeing her at the next Baby Show with her beautiful, gorgeous and dazzlingly smiley Matilda Mae sitting on her knee. Just a normal Mummy, a brilliant Mummy as it happens, with her bouncing baby girl. And now this… The worst of times has happened to her family.

People have written her poems and messages of support. Someone else wrote her the most beautiful lullaby for her and her baby girl. I wish I had the skills to say something as supportive but I just can’t find the words so instead I am writing this, my only way of helping to promote the charity they have set up in Matilda Mae’s name. I don’t know what else I can do to show how much I care. I told you Jennie was amazing didn’t I and she is. She is going to make sure her daughter leaves a lasting legacy and asks people to donate to the Matilda Mae Precious Star Fund. This is a charity set up in her name and it will raise, is already raising, hundreds of pounds for the charity Bliss which cares for premature and special care babies. Matilda Mae wasn’t premature in her birth, only in her leaving for heaven to become an angel but her older twin siblings were and it is a charity very close to Jennie and her family. I’ll never understand how Matilda Mae could have gone too soon, would anybody? But I’ll always remember her as I will always remember my friend Dominic and I will be donating to the fund. The only thing I can say or do to help Jennie and the rest of Matilda Mae’s family is to urge others to do the same.

This was the post I’ve hated writing and wish I didn’t have to, thank you for reading…

Follow