A tribute to Daniel, our youngest grandson.

 

Sometimes life deals you a tragic blow and you are catapulted into a nightmarish existence.

A week ago our youngest grandson, Daniel, who was four, was rushed to Leeds General Infirmary, from our local hospital. At 11.30 the previous evening his parents, our daughter and her partner, had been informed that he had Leukaemia. He had been admitted to the hospital  for complications with chickenpox.

Basically, what followed over the next two and half days was like being in a twilight zone. He eventually had a machine working away for just about every major organ in his body. Daniel fought a brave battle for his life. But, on Sunday morning his parents were told that he was dying and they took the tremendously brave decision to let him slip away peacefully in their arms, rather than risk him having a heart attack and a violent passing.

 

This afternoon, with a hell of a lot of trepidation and shaking legs, I went to the Chapel of Rest to see Daniel. I needed to replace the image of him lying in the Intensive Care Unit after he had passed, with something more peaceful. I am glad to say I found my peace. I spent some time holding his hand, stroking his lovely brown hair and chatting to him. He may well have been listening in from somewhere thinking please shut up grandma! I talked about the many happy things we did together and fun times we had – such as counting our stairs to make sure that one hadn’t gone missing, making dens under tables, generally turning our lounge into a tip, walking the Daisy Dog and running around the house like lunatics!

I left the Chapel of Rest a changed person… no longer deranged with grief.

This isn’t to say that the grief won’t return. As anyone who has experienced a bereavement (and I’m guessing that is a lot of us) knows, it hits you in waves doesn’t it? You think you have it all under control and then that one little thing can reduce you to tears… yes?

As for Daniel’s parents… they are being so brave and strong. They have a rather dark and scary road to travel down. But we, the family will be with them all the way. And we are gathering some HUGE torches to light our way.

So Daniel my little sweetheart, next week your funeral will be a celebration of your life… with colours,  balloons and some pop star called Megan Trainer ( yeah, grandma has that wrong again) who you rather liked. You had a few cool moves when you danced to her tracks. Not for you a dark and dreary event. 

 

My daughter and her partner have surprised and filled me with hope with their take on the cruel event that  wrenched their beautiful son away from them. His dad told me :

” We were all on a journey together. Now Daniel has had to go on a journey of his own and we must find ourselves another journey. But, he will always be with us. We carry him in our hearts and we wouldn’t have missed our journey with him for anything.”

Are not our children brilliant? Do they not make us proud? Do they not inspire us?

Rest in peace Daniel Christopher. You were a one-off. And your mummy and daddy although broken-hearted will be just fine given the passage of time, because they made a promise to you as you passed. They understood that your journey together was over, but they promised you that they would somehow find a new way – in time. The better for having had you in their lives, albeit it for four short years. Mummies and daddies don’t break promises.

We all benefited from knowing you… our special, gorgeous little man.

Enjoy your journey sweetheart and don’t forget to come back and haunt us all on a regular basis. Particularly at the dead of night when we all can’t sleep.

And this grandma of yours will continue to talk to you… you don’t get away with it that easily!

This post is not written to depress or disturb you, nor to draw sympathy. On Write Dorne I write about all aspects of my life. 
Death is a part of life and we can not escape it. But, I think as we face up to it, it becomes less scary – well that’s the plan anyway.

I plan to write about Daniel a bit more. In fact a lot more… he was a large part of my life.

 

Thanks for dropping by.

Dorne x

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

R.I.P.Misty : the blogging greyhound.

Cropton with c 2015This morning hubby and I had to make the heart-breaking decision to have Misty, our beloved greyhound, put to sleep. An X-ray had revealed a tumour on her hip and even if the damn and blasted thing hadn’t been cancerous, she would have needed her right, hind leg removing. That would have cleared her of most of the growth : but not all of it. Aged 12 years and 6 months, we felt this was too much and so we let her gently pass over, on to the next part of her journey.

There will be many of you who know only too well what a lousy and painful place my hubby, family and I inhabit at the moment. But, I know from past experience it does improve…with time. I’m old enough to have experienced the coming and going of many well-loved pets, over the years.

We do smile again. In fact I have smiled today, in between the out of control sobbing.

Last week, my family, Misty and I were at a cabin in nearby forests. So, my lasting memories of her will be enjoying our short walks and chilling out, greyhound style, on the sunny decking. She had  really slowed down and she was due back at the vets for a check up this coming week. None of us (vets included) suspected anything like this and she had shown no signs of pain. She was being medicated for joint pain. She duly spent the week eating us out of the cabin and was still keen to socialise with the other holidaying dogs. The above image shows her with the family, on one of our walks.

 

 

So, this is my tribute to a rather special greyhound called Misty, who also used to pen rather naughty posts on here, from time to time.

 

 

Aviary Photo_130399684163612408

 

 

March 20, 2003 – September 13, 2015

 

We brought her home from her racing kennels on September 13, 2008. For seven fabulous years, to the day, she lived with us, travelled with us, helped yours truly get thin again. Then watched me get fat, thin, fat… you get the picture!

She inspired me to kick-start my writing career and she became quite a star of several publications.

Hubby was firmly twisted around her lovely, long and slender paws.

Our grandchildren loved her to bits and she was always patient with them.

Everyone loved her, who met her and she had many doggy friends: both large and small.

She had a beautiful, soft silky coat, fabulous big brown eyes and she smelt gorgeous.

But, all dogs do and they’re all special, aren’t they?

Our life was all the richer for having her as our family pet and we wouldn’t change a second of it. Except… I might re-wind the clock back seven years and start all over again.

Misty was loved beyond measure and we have many treasured memories of her.

As for me… in my dreams, I will be forever in the fields walking with my sorely missed friend, Misty.

R.I.P. our lovely and beautiful pet.

 

That’s it for now. I have been absent from the blogosphere just recently.  There’s been too much going on and the wet room saga continues. Yes, unbelievable! ( More on that later!)

I’m going to try to be a better blogger from now on. After all, this blog is supposed to be all about life, so life… I will give you.

But, for now, please bear with me as I come to terms with the loss of my lovely canine pal and the heart wrenching pain that we pet lovers must endure, when they leave us.

Mind you, it is quite possible that she is sitting somewhere watching me write this post and thinking…what a right numpty!

Thanks for taking the time to visit and I will be back.

Dorne x

 

 

 

 

The cycle of life.

WP_20141105_001 There’s a mixture of blessings today. Good because I’ve seen a bank vole up close, [up until today I’d only ever seen them darting across the lane, in front of me and my dog] and not so good, because this handsome little chap is slowly passing over.

He appeared in front of our French windows, which open out on to our rear yard, this morning. When we went out he ran off and hid. Fair enough. I put some food down for him.

About half an hour later he was back, lying on our mat, in front of the doors. This time when I went out he wasn’t keen to move. So, I gently moved him to a more private spot, in the corner of the yard. He’s been there ever since. His breathing is growing more shallow and he’s gently snoring. Bless. Now, I’ve covered him with leaves, to try to make his passing as comfortable and dignified as possible.

When he has finally passed over I plan to take him back to the fields, across the road from us. There’s a wooded area in the corner, where the many tawny owls around here, gather on a night. They watch me as I plod up the lane with Misty. Maybe this beautiful little creature will become supper for an owl and he’ll help another living thing to survive the long, cold winter that lies ahead. His life and passing won’t have been in vain. Such is the cycle of life and nature’s way.

Every once in a while something like this comes along and acts as a reminder to live our lives. One little bank vole has given me a wake up call today; one that I needed. He’ll never be forgotten.

  • How about you?
  • Do you need a wake up call?
  • Are you letting life pass you by?

Thanks for taking the time to visit and enjoy the rest of your day. If you’re going to a bonfire tonight…be safe.

Until the next time.