Firstly apologies, Liz and myself have yet to register on the board as “ourselves” and are therefore using Graeme’s account as he gave us the passwords etc. I’ve actually been trying to register for weeks but as I only have a hotmail address I’m struggling (I’m also pretty useless on all things techy) – if anyone can help or advise I’d be grateful!
Guess I thought I’d ‘ramble’ a bit as Graeme (sorry guys he’ll always be Graeme to me) found it such a catharsis and asked us all to keep in touch with the board after he left us. However I’m typing this for the second time, in Word, as when I typed it on the board last night it crashed and disappeared, then what happened? the board closed altogether, heck, hope I’m not a Jonah – pissed off wasn’t close to describing how I felt! Just hope I can remember everything I said…..here goes.
Firstly, once again my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you for your messages of support, to say we are overwhelmed doesn’t even begin to describe it. So many of you have said Graeme was an inspiration, well I believe you all are inspirational too, your support was invaluable to Graeme during his battle and is invaluable to us as a family now. I’d just like to highlight this with some examples of what it has meant to us. My poor mam has had a crash course in message boards, avatars, signatures etc. from 2 poorly qualified internet teachers (i.e. Liz and myself) and she has been truly astounded at the sheer numbers of replies, views and the general power of the net at a time like this. I’m sure she’ll treasure the good old printed paper copies of all the messages, and the blog book when it’s published. My Dad is checking the board every day and most of the time I find him laughing through the tears, many of you have tremendously sensitive wit. I guess his favourite was Big Sharp Teeth’s comment that ended with ”never understood why he didn’t like whistling in public though”. Liz is doing a grand job printing and reading every thread or mention of Graeme and was up til 4.30 yesterday morning on the skunkers board. Myself, well there are too many posts to mention, the sheer quantity has astounded me and a general theme of people mourning someone they have never met is amazing. However a few jump out; ChinaMackems wife adopting topper into her English vocabulary, the poster who typed all the words to “when the boat comes in” with reference to the Graeme and his dad blog (a song we also sing to our 2 year old but didn’t know the words to), someone’s comment about how Graeme reminded him of Victor Meldrew (in a nice way of course) - this person had Graeme sussed as boy could he rant!, and the amazing personal stories of those of you fortunate to meet him. We’ve also had some wonderful personal messages which are very much appreciated as are the mentions of Hazey t-shirts, the incorporation of his avatar into the SMB logo and fundraisers for the future. Lots of people have been asking about sending cards but personally speaking (and I’m sure Graeme would think the same), sympathy cards are just a bit naff imo. Plus I’d rather in this day and age, receive an email (which will be printed and kept) and the money that you would spend on a card goes in an appropriate Hazey related collecting tin (cancer or animal charities) next time you see one. Much more positive, much more environmentally friendly, much more Hazey – he rarely sent cards himself. I might regret doing this but hey ho – if people want to send any more personal messages than what they’d post on the board my email is chrismelwhite@hotmail.com. I’ll not take the liberty of posting Liz’s email but I can pass anything onto her.
In terms of how we are coping at this time I can only speak for myself. Surreal probably describes it best, a mixture of emotions. Mainly I am relieved he is no longer suffering, I got such a shock when I saw him on Saturday having not seen him since before Christmas. I hope none of you ever has to see a loved one like that. However it was such a special afternoon; his face lighting up with the best smile he could muster when I arrived, lying next to him on the bed stroking his hand, arm, face and hair with Marvin Gaye’s ‘What’s Going On’ playing in the background, him waiting until it was just me and him then struggling with the remote to put the mute button on so he could tell me his funeral wishes (he had made the effort, with help from my dad, to move from the bed to the settee to watch the scores on Sky Sports News) and a simple thing like peeling some satsumas for him and being told he wanted the white pith taking off! They are moments I will treasure forever. Other emotions include a feeling of absolute numbness, I don’t think I’ve really taken it in. In a small way I also feel it would be so disloyal to him to be moping around feeling sorry for myself, he wouldn’t have wanted that and for now I’m lucky enough to have what he really wanted, a future, and I’m not going to waste it with negative energy. My priorities right now are working with the rest of the family on planning the woodland burial that he so much wanted, planning 2 memorial evenings, printing and keeping everything written about him and waiting for the ever so important blog publication. However I am aware that one day it’ll hit me like a bag of hammers that “shit, I’m not going to see or speak to him again – for the rest of my life” and who knows maybe I’ll collapse like a deck of cards. What has helped me tremendously as well are strange things that have gone on since he died. Now the psychologists and cynics out there will write it off as your mind working overtime and it being some psychological safeguard (and I should know I have a degree in psychology!). However I had a fab chat with Graeme a few weeks ago and we both agreed that some things are too odd to be passed off as coincidence. I still find it strange that the original tribute thread on SMB was lost and the last back up took place at 4am – the exact time Graeme died. Also my little boy who is 2 has just known Uncle Graeme has been ‘poorly’ for many months. We didn’t take him in to see Graeme on Saturday as he looked so ill and mainly, the last thing he needed was a boisterous toddler knocking about. On the Sunday, after Graeme died, we were headed over to the flat to see Liz, which we told Oliver; his response was “Graeme’s poorly” followed by a pause then “But he’s feeling better now” – very strange. Other experiences have been Liz’s friend getting a blank text from an unknown sender at the time Graeme died, us switching on BBC News 24 at the time an article was running on the new Radiohead album, the album my husband trawled all over Beckenham for to buy Graeme on Saturday. One of the best though was myself and Liz inadvertently becoming locked in the funeral directors, the lady seeing to us smiling sweetly at the same time with a look of panic in her eyes probably thinking “what a nightmare, I can’t open the door”. I had to say Graeme would be chuckling at us, which put her at ease and hey presto the door opened. Dismiss me as a bereaved sister, I don’t care, I really believe these are all Graeme’s way of letting us know he is very much still around us all, for now and ever more.
Anyway I think my first ramble is enough for now, I have to say it thank you, thank you once again, I hope to meet as many of you as possible at his memorial evenings - details of which we'll post soon.
Just as an extra note the quote included in this thread were Graeme’s last words to me said with his lovely, warm smile and a twinkle in his eye J
