My darling “Craigie”
This letter is so difficult to write but I will try to express some of my feelings for you. I cannot believe that it has come to Dignitas, although I fully understand why.
I go back to when you were a wee baby. How you used to sleep with your arms beside your head – how I woke up three minutes before you in the night when I knew that you were going to start crying.
Even then, the mother’s instinct was kicking in. How you used to walk with your dummy and bottle in your hand; how you used to wake up early in the morning, come into our room and ask Dad for a “cherry, Papa”. He would take you down to the fridge to give you one. How you fell down the stairs in Dentree Road and I watched you falling but couldn’t stop it.
My heart nearly stopped! Such beautiful memories of us going down to the beach and you tasting your first ice cream. Your beautiful smile. How we went to the Linton Grange Library together to take out kiddies’ books for you and how we used to play with educational toys on the carpet in the family room. How you started at a playschool and cried and cried when I had to leave. We always had such a strong connection.
The pre-primary with Alec and how wonderful you were to him. How you understood him although nobody else could. Your birthday parties – you loved them and unwrapping all the toys.
When going to other birthday parties, you would always first cling to my leg and “suss” everyone out before you left the safety of my leg. How proud I always was of you at plays and prize-givings. You were such a good child and never gave us one ounce of trouble.
I am so sorry that you had to suffer through your school years. They are never great years but you really had to fight your way through every year – not only academically but socially and emotionally as well.
I so wished that there was another school in PE that we could have sent you to. Nothing ever came easily to you and you fought with great determination to obtain all you have.
You were never given a break. The only break you ever had was to be born with family that could comfortably financially support you. Then your after-school years and how you had to fight again. Why is so much given to one child and others have nothing? We will never know but I do know that life is very unfair – particularly in your case.
As I think back over the years and ponder on them, I realise how much you have taught me in my life. Some lessons are: unselfish love, fighting to survive, great determination in spite of the greatest obstacles, empathy to all irrespective of colour, bravery, thankfulness, appreciation of happiness, honesty and wonderful values in life.
You were never the teenager who swore or shouted at his mother or used drink and drugs. You just always had a sense of what is wrong and what is right in life and I also believe that this is why you have such peace about Dignitas. Craig, you are one of God’s very special angels on earth but as the song goes, “This world was not made for someone as beautiful as you.”
Even when you had your brain op, I read a poem about God lending us, for a time, a child of His to look after and love but then also not to grieve too much if he is taken away sooner than we would like. The poem actually mentions the ages of 27 or 28. That poem always meant something special to me – perhaps because of Neurofibromatosis.
You have fought with such dignity against NF and adhesions. I don’t know how you did it but I was always happy that you survived and I could have you longer. But, as you say, even the strongest grow weak and NO ONE can blame you for the decision you have taken.
Just know that I have suffered with you through all these hateful ops and hateful kids at school and the church cell group. You have every right to say “so far but no more” and only you can say it. We have already lost quite a large part of you. It saddens me so much that illness can do this to a person, but I suppose that we all have to face our own trial in life. Yours has just been so continuous since the day you were born.
I love you with such an all-consuming love that I don’t even try to think about after Dignitas. My heart explodes with love for you and I would happily have carried your load on my shoulders if I could.
I am sorry if I overprotected you but I was so in love with you that I did not even know it. Perhaps, if I did not overprotect you, you would have had a wife by now. Who knows?
Your kindness to others, your high standard of manners and the way in which you related to older people are all qualities of yours that stand out when I think of you.
I can understand why you desire peace now, Craig. My mother went through two horrific years before she died of cancer and I remember seeing her after she had just passed away and she looked so peaceful, no more suffering. I so wish I could give you that peace without Dignitas, but I can’t.
You need never fear that anybody in this world will replace you. Nobody could ever fill your shoes and you will be in my heart forever and ever. As a matter of fact, if Dignitas does happen, I know your soul will be with me every day, all day, until I join you.
So, my darling, I want you to know that I will be there and
