A letter to my son

Especially for parents whose sons or daughters died by suicide.

A letter to my son

Postby caron » Tue Sep 27, 2016 3:40 am

A letter to my son
Dear Kris,
Where do I start??
I want to tell you all the things I should have told you when I had the chance.
When I discovered I was pregnant Dad and I were so excited. All I'd ever wanted was to be a mummy. I was only 21 when I had you, still a child myself.
Those 9 months were amazing, from the first time I felt you kick, to your birth.
On the 24 February 1980 I became a mum, the proudest mum of the most beautiful baby boy. You brought a special type of love into my heart that I had never experienced before. I didn't know I was capable of such a powerful love until I had you. You were and always will be perfect to me.
You became a proud big brother when Ben was born 32 months later. Our life was complete. You were a kind and gentle big brother.
When you spoke your first word, took your first steps, I was your biggest supporter. I very clearly remember the day that dad and I taught you how to suck through a straw. I remember teaching you to use a spoon, to tie your shoelaces, clean your teeth, so many little things we took for granted.
I shared so many milestones with you Kris, when you lost your first tooth and we put it under your pillow for the tooth fairy. Hunting for Easter eggs (did you know it was me who made the bunny prints out of baby powder), getting up bleary eyed to see what Santa brought. I remember dad putting bikes together, setting up a trampoline, building a cubby, putting a pool up in the middle of the night, just so you and Ben both had a wonderful Christmas.
I watched you go off to kinder and then to school with tears in my eyes. My baby was growing up so fast.
Off to school you went, all dressed up in your uniform with a back pack as big as you. You were so proud of being a big boy and I had mixed emotions about sending you out into the world. I really enjoyed your primary school years. I loved being a mum that could help, canteen duty, going on excursions and being a reading mum. Watching you graduate from grade 6. You still have that special windcheater that everyone signed. I loved every second of that.
You were such an intelligent and sensitive little boy, in grade 5 you were doing year 10 maths. Mr Vince told me you were clever, but I already knew that. I wonder if you ever really knew how proud I was to have you as my son?
Dad and I bought you a Commodore 64 computer and you could write your own program to make a ball bounce across the screen.
I loved watching you at little aths, tennis and the vic kick that dad helped at each week. I really was the proudest loudest cheering mum. You used to bring lots of kids round to play, and there was always something going on at our place or in the street. It was a quiet safe street then. I remember birthdays and mothers days when you picked me flowers from the garden and gave me coffee and cold toast in bed.
I remember the time you and Jason koumatatis set fire to the block of land behind us and when you and Ben came running home one day after setting a pine tree on fire in Dyalls. I guess there's a lot I'll never know, but I think you had a great boys childhood.
You got a scholarship to Woodleigh and breezed through all those hard maths science subjects. I felt you didn't like to be so smart, that you just wanted to be the same as everyone else.
You grew into a young man I admired, getting a job at Pioneer, doing something that interested you. Of course you were a whizz at fixing electronic things and I'd often find you fixing someone's computer or stereo. I couldn't even understand the tv remote, yet you'd just press a few buttons and it worked. You were always doing things and helping others.

It was such a pleasure to share our love of food. You grew the hottest chilli in the world to smoking meats, to sous vide cooking, even before I knew what that was. I remember thinking how clever and dedicated you were when I found you'd used my crock pot and a thermostat to make a sous vide machine. I was always excited when you were smoking meats and couldn't wait for a sample. I feel blessed that we could share that. Your passion and love for things that interested you was amazing. I was in awe of this.
There was a part of you kept hidden from me, a sensitive caring part that I now read about on Facebook. You helped so many people and were loved by so many.
You were unique, Kris, and I am blessed to have been your mother had you in my life. You have taught me so much about life.
I was thrilled this year when you brought Megan home t meet us. I could see you were happy and hoped that you'd found your place in life. Thank you Megan for loving my boy.
You were always such a sensitive little man, you put up barriers and tried so hard. Little did you know you didn't need to try as we all loved you so very very much. I wish you could have just relaxed, let the barriers down and enjoyed life my darling boy.
I also wish you could have known the overwhelming love and joy of becoming a parent
my son. Being a parent is truly the most rewarding thing one can do. You were a beautiful loving uncle to Will and Georgia. They will remember you as Uncle Kris, the brightest star in the sky.
I guess what I most want to say to you is I am the proudest mum, I was the happiest mum and now I am the saddest, hurting the most mum.
My heart is breaking my darling boy, but I have some beautiful memories to keep in my heart. I will always love you my little angel, fly free my darling boy.
Love you forever
mum xxxxxxxxxxx
caron
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