When my children were growing up we were never in a position to purchase a video camera. Such an object was considered a luxury that we simply could not afford and by the time our situation changed, it was too late, as the boys were much older and didn’t want a video camera shoved in their faces every time they moved. And I have to admit that neither did I.

My brother, although only two years younger than me, started a family a number of years later and he was eager to, and able to, document the growth of his daughters. Naturally, being a family, that spilled over to my sons.

Last Christmas, my brother presented me with a DVD as a memento of Barry’s life…and his first Christmas in heaven. I was unable to watch the DVD at the time and put it away for another time. On Saturday, the time to watch it came.

I sat in the bedroom and watched it on my laptop (I was supposed to be working). When Gary discovered me hiding away, he grew anxious…concerned that the living memories would upset me. I quickly promised to turn the DVD off if that were to happen.

It didn’t.

For two hours I sat and watched the passing fashions in clothes and hair styles with amusement. I smiled as pets that are no longer with us nosed their way into the spot light, their tails wagging and with their big brown eyes and cute faces. I laughed as a younger version of me moved about looking like a complete drip. And, more importantly, I laughed and smiled at the sight of my gorgeous little boys as they talked, played and interacted with other family members.

We were never well off, but the DVD brought back some memories which proved we always were capable of making our own fun. Here are a couple of photos to prove it. They were taken in my parent’s backyard on Father’s Day in September 1992. We had such fun that day. The looks on our faces in the second photo is priceless.

Parents lose their children early in life. As soon as they reach the teen years, the youngsters are moving away from their parents emotionally and the parents suffer a sense of loss then. This is nature’s way of preparing a family for separation, when the child (now a young adult) moves out of home. I believe this is the reason I was able to watch the DVD without getting upset. I had already dealt with the loss of my little boy, now I have to deal with the loss of the man he had grown into.

Within minutes of watching the DVD, we had a visitor arrive. I stood talking about the images that were fresh in my mind, telling stories to a visitor who actually never met Barry, but the visitor smiled and said I looked happy and it was good to see. In grief, we know when it’s the right time to move forward. We cannot make that move unless we are truly ready. I’m ready to start sifting through Barry’s life and documenting it. And that will be my next project.

On Saturday night, I climbed into bed and turned the light out. As soon as the room plunged into darkness, the tears spilled down my face. This shocked me, because I truly felt alright leading up to that moment, but obviously the wound is not healed and I needed to shed some tears before I could fall asleep and that’s what I did. A few minutes past, I wiped the tears away and whispered goodnight to Barry and then I closed my eyes and drifted off into the world of dreams.

Even with the tears, I feel the DVD will become an important part of my future. In truth, I would give everything I own if it meant I could have Barry back, but that isn’t the way things work. I have to be content with the memories, living (video images) and still (photos). With the approaching of Barry’s birthday and the placement of his ashes on that day, I feel it’s important to focus on Barry’s life…not his death. This is the way forward for me. Life.

I found the following photograph and comment on Gary’s Floralscape account. It says everything I can’t say right now for fear of breaking apart.

Comment by Gary:

This photo was taken on the 17th May, 2006. We were trying out Karen’s new camera.

We were celebrating breaking a 6 month diet. Karen had lost 14 kilo and I had lost 24 kilo and we were looking forward to a new, bright future.

Little did we know that the next evening on the 18th we would receive a phone call that would see our world come tumbling down around us and change our lives completely.

Barry, Karen’s 18 year old son had taken his own life.

Leading up to the anniversary of your short life Barry, we want you to know that we love you, we miss you every day, we never stop talking about you and you will always be a part of our lives.

May Peace be upon you my dear friend for all eternity.

Edit 12 May 2007: Gary decided to delete the photo and comment from his flickr account, so I have uploaded the photo to mine instead. However, the original comment can no longer be seen.

By accident, I found myself listening to a song that brought back memories tonight – King of the Road by Roger Miller.

Many years ago, Barry stayed with his Nan and Grandad for a week. Both his father and I had to work, Daniel returned to school after the long Christmas break, but Barry’s school had another week off. We didn’t feel comfortable leaving Barry at home on his own, so he stayed with his grandparents (who, at the time, lived three hours away).

Grandparents spoil their grandchildren. Everyone knows this. It’s their job. Whatever isn’t allowed at home is suddenly okay. My parents didn’t want Barry to be bored, so they entertained him the best they could. Barry was allowed to stay up late. He gave my mother lessons on the Nintendo (he loved watching her scream with laughter). They bought scratchies and let him do the scratching – even though he was only ten and scratchies are considered betting. He kept winning small amounts of money, which was promptly used to get more tickets. They played cards and I’m told that Barry won way too often – much to his grandparent’s annoyance. And Barry and his grandfather learned a dance routine.

When we drove to my parents for the weekend, to pick Barry up, they put on a performance for us. They each had their own section of dance and song. They had us in stitches with laughter. The resemblance between the two of them was amazing, even though there was a fifty year age gap. The whole family sang the chorus at the top of their voices and believe me, this would have made the neighbours miserable, because we can’t sing and we are all tone deaf.

On returning home, Barry drove me crazy with “Grandad said…” or “Nan let me…” or “I was allowed over Nan and Grandad’s, why aren’t I allowed now.” I had words with my parents about that (jokingly). They just laughed and told me they had done their job well.

King of the Road became a favoured song. Every time we heard it, we would all break into song and then laugh until our stomachs hurt.

Hearing the song tonight made me remember…and it made me smile. Did it make you smile too, Barry?

Before Barry left this world, he went through his things and threw a lot of stuff out. Why? Did he want to save me the trouble? Did he dislike the thought of his family rummaging through his things? We will never know.

We do know that he chose carefully how he would go about his job. To anyone who walked into his room, nothing was amiss. Nothing had changed. But if that person delved deeper, and opened a drawer, they (meaning us; meaning me) would more than likely find the drawer empty. Obviously, I never went through his drawers, because I had no idea what he had done and what he was planning. I respected his privacy.

The few drawers with something left inside were few – his underwear and socks; some magazine pictures of his ideals Arnold Schwarzenegger, Johnny Depp and Jennifer Love Hewitt (from his younger days); a pencil case and some lolly wrappers (which I haven’t been able to throw away), and a few other small items.

All the important items, apart from the things I had in a folder kept elsewhere and the things on show in his bedroom, had been trashed.

When he went to England with his dad, Barry and I exchanged a few letters. As it happened, a few months prior to Barry’s death, I came across the letters Barry had written to me. I remember telling Barry about them. He seemed surprised that I had kept them and asked if he could see them.

He never gave them back, but I wasn’t concerned. Not then, because I didn’t know what was going on in his head and what would soon happen .

Three months later, Barry was gone and so was most of the things in his room. I remembered the letters and got upset because I no longer had those personal words he had written just for me.

A month after losing Barry, while searching my room for something else, I found a strange envelope. I had never seen the envelope before. Upon opening it, I found four letters inside – the two I had sent to Barry and the two he had sent to me all those years ago when he was in England.

Barry had known I would treasure those letters forever. I had already proven myself in that regard. Just as he proved to me he cared, because he also had kept my letters, even though he didn’t tell me at the time.

Barry was careful in his planning, he was good at keeping secrets, and he broke my heart with his actions, but he showed me that he cared enough to not throw away those letters when he placed them somewhere he knew I’d find them when the time was right. I’ll be forever grateful for that.

Yesterday, I invited you to Meet the Family. Afterwards, I settled back and went through the photos on both sites. A trip down memory lane, as they say.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered two comments had been made on my photos. Both were made long ago and I apologise to Fiona and Deborah for not acknowledging their words. I only found them yesterday. This is an area where Flickr could improved its service, I believe.

Anyway, Fiona, a friend of Barry’s left a memory in her comment and I am honoured to share that with you today. Below is a photo of Fiona and Barry together at a party. This photo was in Barry’s personal collection on his computer. Under the photo you’ll be able to read Fiona’s comment.

Thank you, Fiona, for sharing this with me and thank you for that last sentence…it brought tears to my eyes.

Hi, im fiona, thats me in the photo with Barry. Ive been reading your blogs for a few weeks now, so I thought Id tell you about this night. In this photo we were at Leesas party, which Barry invited me to. Before we went there I told him to make sure he didnt leave me by myself because I wouldnt know that many people, and he said he wouldnt. He did stay with me most of the night, except for when he and Matt went to get his car to drive around but he told me he would come back and get me once he got his car. And he did. So Barry and Matt came back and picked up Karina, Nicole and myself. We drove around for a while, even going to Mt druitt..not sure why we went there though! We then headed back to Leesas as i had to get back to the party in time for when my mum picked me up..I still have the message he sent me that night after the party saying ”See i didnt dog you, im a nice guy” and he was a nice guy. haha i got a message from him a few days after the party saying someone asked him if i was his girlfriend because they saw us together..it was pretty funny. I’ll always remember him as a fun happy guy. I remember when I used to always see him at the plaza when i was in about yr8 and I thought he was one of the funniest boys! You raised a great young man who could make anyone laugh.

We live in the centre of a city. It’s a hive of activity in every direction, yet our street is a dead end, which means it’s usually quiet as only residents have any reason to use the street. At the end of the street is an alley, which takes residents around to the main shopping area of our city. The alley is paved and we walk through there often. For me, it is at least once a week. For Gary, three or four times a week. And for Daniel, he walks through that alley every day.

Imagine my surprise when one rainy day, Gary and I were running along the path trying to make it to shelter when I suddenly noticed something I had never seen before. Something I had walked over hundreds of times, but never registered in my mind. A message that was so obviously from Barry, that I still find it difficult to believe that I had not noticed it before.

I think I noticed it this day, because the rain water filled the cracks and made the message stand out tenfold. I remember standing in the rain and staring at my son’s hand writing, months after I had lost him to suicide, a smile spreading across my face.

Barry had defaced Council property, leaving a message of love behind, and I want to share that message with you today.

Nat was Barry’s first girlfriend. Well, the first girlfriend he told me about anyway. And from what Natalee tells me, I believe she was his first, although I know he “liked” other girls prior to asking Natalee out. Barry and Nat were together for about 18 months from the age of 15. He thought the world of her…and her family. And they thought the world of him.

I was grateful then, and I’m grateful now, for the way Natalee’s family “adopted” Barry and made him one of their own. It was a happy time for Barry, which I’m sure he treasured. I saw the difference that association had on him and his confidence. The writing in the pavement is only one reminder of his time with Natalee. Barry wrote his feelings for her in his school books, on his school bag, on his cap, even on his wardrobe (in thick, black, permanent marker – which didn’t go down well with me, at the time).

This morning I pulled out an old shoebox filled with computer disks and upon opening the lid found another “I love Nat” written in chalk on the inside of the lid. It reminded me of the message in the alley and that is why I felt the need to write this post. I’m scared the little reminders will one day disappear, so I need to document them so that I won’t forget.

Here are some photos of Barry and Nat. The one to the left was taken at the Year 10 Formal in 2003 and the one to the right at the Year 12 Formal in 2005. Barry didn’t take Natalee to the Year 12 Formal, he had another girlfriend then, named Tara, but the two girls were friends. The long photo at the bottom of the set shows Tara, Barry and Natalee. I’m told Barry felt like a film star that afternoon, with cameras flashing in every direction and a girl hanging off each arm, so he adopted that “cool” look he was famous for.

Gary has been working hard on our family photos lately. He has been adding different effects, cleaning up the backgrounds, optimising the area used and the quality (where he can). This has taken many hours of work and he has started an online photo album called Floralscape where he shows a small portion of what he has done.

The following photo of Barry has been given a cartoon effect and two people where removed. It came up so well that we had it enlarged and framed. It looks great in the wooden frame and everyone who sees it, comments on how good it looks and how different it is.

And whilst the quality of the next photo isn’t the greatest, I love the photo itself because this is exactly how I saw Barry every day. Happy! Gary took this still from a documentary Barry made for a school project. The video was entitled “Kuni” and if you want to see a series of stills from the video just follow the link (I love looking at these as I can almost see him moving about and laughing – much like the photos in the Harry Potter movies).

Whilst visiting with my parents today, I made a statement that reminded me that Barry and I shared strong feelings about Christmas, but we were very different when it came to the music we listened to on that special day.

Let’s face it, there are only so many Christmas songs to listen to. For me, I like traditional Christmas music playing in the background. We may hear the same song several times during the day, but it sounds different because each singer tries to make it their own. They give the songs their own special twist – classical, country, rock, instrumental, pop. My favourites are White Christmas and O Holy Night.

Barry enjoyed the same songs, but with a difference. He like them “switched on”. In other words, he liked traditional songs recorded with the modern techno boom boom rhythm behind it. We own a CD called Switched On Christmas. I used to hide it and put on the nice, mellow sounds of Christmas cheer. Barry used to find it and change the soft, mellow sounds to loud, head banging noise! His favourites were Little Drummer Boy and O Holy Night.

I’d let a couple of songs play and then I’d change it back to the mellow. He’d let a few songs play and then he’d change it back to the up-tempo stuff. And we’d continue to do this for most of the day until we were both sick of the songs and, to Gary’s great relief, turned the music off altogether.

Today, I pulled out Switched On Christmas and held it in my hands and thought about Christmas’ past. This year, I guess I won’t have to hide the CD because there’s no one to go hunting for it. But this year, I’ll voluntarily put the CD on and will let a few songs bounce of the walls of the house in memory of Barry.

Read these memories from the beginning.

Christmas 2005 – Our Last Christmas Together

Daniel and his girlfriend came over early – and I don’t mean 5am early either; remember we’re all grown up now, it was more like 9.30am – to open the presents. The photo below was taken not long after we discarded all the ripped wrapping paper – a proud mother with her two handsome sons (it’s a pity I hadn’t already lost my 14kg then, but never mind).

After we had finished with the presents and the photo taking, it was time for Gary, Barry and I to get ready. Barry headed off to his bedroom and pumped up the music, because as all teenagers know it’s quite impossible to get changed in silence. Anyway, Daniel sneaked up to Barry’s room and caught Barry dancing to the music. Here’s a photo to prove it. It’s one of my favourites. Doesn’t he have a lovely smile?

Then we headed off to the restaurant. It still surprises me how many families chose this option, instead of crowding into someone’s place to cause a mess. The restaurant was packed tight. Streamers waved at us in the air-conditioning. Christmas music fought to be heard over the constant chatter and laughter. Plates of food piled high with everything you could possibly imagine could be seen in every direction.

We sat at a long table. It was all-you-can-eat so we didn’t go hungry. My boys may be skinny, but they know how to tuck the food away. This day was no exception. Food, more photos (I would share one, but for privacy reason for the rest of the family, I will refrain), laughter, jokes—we had a brilliant time. Santa even visited our table and gave my young nieces a present each.

Two hours flashed passed in a moment. We all found ourselves rubbing our bellies and complaining that we’d eaten too much. And for some strange reason, we all wanted an afternoon nap. It was time to go home.

In the car, on the way home, Barry asked to be dropped off at his mate’s place (or maybe he wanted to go over his girlfriend’s place, I can’t remember now). Daniel and his girlfriend went home so they could get ready to do the same thing all over again at her mother’s house. And Gary and I came home and crashed…well, we wanted to, but Gary’s children and their families were on their way so we had to “party on” and for “oldies” that’s hard work.

We eventually crawled into bed at close to midnight, exhausted and all partied out. But we were smiling because we had celebrated a special day surrounded by all our family. We had exchanged gifts, laughed, hugged and recorded the day by taking photos. Who could ask for more?

And who would have guessed that this would be our last Christmas together? By some miracle, it was to be the only Christmas that Daniel, Barry and I had spent together since my marriage fell apart…but it was also the last! I still have trouble getting my head around that, but I can say one thing…I’m ever so thankful that I have the memories of that one Christmas Day to cherish and carry me through forever.

Read these memories from the beginning.

Within a month, the boys returned to Australia and they came to stay with me for a week. I wanted to do Christmas then, but they said not to bother. Christmas had been horrible and boring (not because of the way they had celebrated with their father, but because of the fact that we were not all together) and they felt it was best to just forget it for that year.

Barry ended up staying with me for good after that visit, but Daniel returned to his father. Another Christmas came around, and Gary, Barry and I invented a new tradition.

Gary was the complete opposite to me and Barry. He hates the hype of Christmas and isn’t interested in trees and lights. He happily helped bring in all the boxes, but that’s where his job ended and ours began.

Barry would press play on the CD player, Christmas songs would fill the room. Gary would roll his eyes and make a quick exit and then Barry and I would begin assembling the tree.

In all honesty, nothing much changed. I still had the job of putting the lights onto the tree first. Every year, Barry would pick up the first length of tinsel, grin at me, and say, “I know, drape don’t wrap.” We went through the same procedure – lights, tinsel, ornaments, star, Santa.

At some stage, Barry or I would corner Gary and force him into helping. Gary, grudgingly, would pick up an ornament, place it on the tree and then say, “There, I’ve helped”, before he disappeared again.

Only two things changed. One was the number of presents under the tree. Before, when the boys were young, they would get lots of cheaper priced presents. They didn’t cost a fortune, but it looked a look under the tree. But now, the boys were older and cheaper presents didn’t cut it anymore. They no longer would be seen in public in cheap “no-name” clothing, it had to be the best – the most expensive. They didn’t want cheap cardboard games, or plastic swords, or cloth tents anymore. They wanted expensive Playstation games, or the latest release DVD’s and music CD’s instead. In reality, I spent more money on them than I ever had in the past, but they had little to show for it.

The other thing to change was how we celebrated the day itself. We no longer lived by the beach. In fact, we lived inland. It was hotter and drier than ever before. Cooking lots of meat no longer appealed to me, because of the heat. I had been the organiser of Christmas for many years, because I wanted it to be special for my children, but I suddenly wanted a break from this tradition too. No one else wanted to do it, so we decided to have Christmas lunch at a restaurant instead.

These are two small changes, but they made a huge difference. My boys were older; the magic wasn’t quite as alive as it had been before. On Christmas morning the room didn’t overflow with presents. And sitting in a restaurant isn’t as pleasant as sitting on a beach.

The Christmas spirit had started to fade.

What made it worse was the fact that Daniel always had Christmas lunch with his father, and Barry always had Christmas lunch with me. They missed each other, but they didn’t want to have to chose between two parents they loved. It breaks my heart to think about that, but they refused to do it any other way. However, I did see both the boys on Christmas Day. Daniel would come over in the morning, or (more likely) in the late afternoon. Afterwards, Barry would go with Daniel to see his dad, so it’s not like I never saw Daniel on Christmas Day.

Continued in Part 5