Where?

It often takes me a while to think about what exactly to write down here to share with everyone. It seems as though Jeydon's absence becomes more and more concious as the days slip away with him. It's hard to think he would have been here, 1 year ago today. That last year, was his last summer, his last first day of school, his last August, his last Monday, everything. It seems rather depressing to dwell on every last of his lasts, but the feeling doesn't subside and the lingering thoughts don't either.

My new room isn't Jeydon's too anymore. It's my things. My girl-ish things, and nothing in here belongs to Jeydon. Nothing in this room, this house, Jeydon touched. Never did he walk here, breathe here, laugh here. Never will we make another "Jeydon" memory in this new atmosphere, but we can carry old ones. Those memorys are so important. More important than a safe box filled with important documents, or photographs, or slips of money. How I wish I could take Jeydon as a whole and put him in a safe box to keep forever. To know he's always there. I know he's in Heaven, but I don't know where. How far away is Heaven? Should I look up to the clouds with the perspective of a small child and wave with a beaming smile, knowing he's there? Someone recently spoke and said that Jeydon's spirit and presence is "everywhere." Is that really so? Or does the mind say these things sunconciously to try and dampen the reality that he really is gone.




And of course...I had to add his beloved.


These things all came with us to our new house, along with many of (or all of) Jeydon's other belongings. They help you remember.

His phone still hasn't been shut off.

K xx.

57 days. 1368 hours. 82,080 minutes.4,924,800 seconds

It's been so long since we've seen Jeydon last.
In four short days, Jeydon will be gone two months.

Rather We Were Dancing.

I need to make this update short, since we are in the midst of worshiping the sunshine and fresh air outside whilst we don't pack.The past few weeks/days have gotten harder and harder without Jeydon here in person, but we still think of him. I could write down a list of one million and one things that I miss about him easily.

How he used to make the best of every moment, undoubtedly was the way he lived.

His yelling. My father used to joke that you could hear Jeydon yelling from Cuba and that it was really that damned loud. I still hear him yelling only from Heaven.

Keeping me up until 4AM, almost every night. Jeydon didn't feel the need for sleep, even when he was at his worst. Sometimes I sit up until 4, peeking open my eyes, just wishing for one more night.

How he just loved basically anything and anybody. My mum always used to tell me to be "more like Jeydon" when it came to choosing friends and enimies. He wasn't perfect, and not everyone loved him, just like anyone else. But he knew how to keep his friends close and his enimies closer.

But there are many things I think of that I actually don't miss.

We miss his eyes, we don't miss the tears in them.

I miss sharing a room with him, waking up to find him close by. I don't miss sharing hospital beds.

I miss running down hospital floors becide him with Mum whilst he or both of us rode on the feet of his IV pole. I don't miss knowing why he was in hospital. Or the fact of knowing what that horrid IV bag contained. And even worse, the fact that the harsh drugs were filling him. My twin.

I miss introducing him as my "twin brother, Jeydon" I don't miss explaining to others that he had cancer. And now, that cancer killed him.

Nasty medications. Needle pokes. IV poles. Hospital beds. Chemo and Radiotherapy. Loud, painful screams. Dressing changes. Puke buckets. Clinics. Emergency rooms.

Over all, I generally miss his presence because he was just always right becide me. We really were "two peas in a pod" and now it feels so empty.

Today is our last day in this house that grief built. But grief was not the only thing that built it. Somewhere, deep inside these walls, these floors, these stairs. Memories. Long before Jeydon really died, I believe that his spirit left and that his body just had to play "catch-up." About 4 days or so before he died, he lost himself and stopped doing all things you'd say were "normal" about Jeydon. It was hard to live there with him next to you when his spirit felt so gone. I knew where he was going, we all knew where he was going & we didn't have to "tell" Jeydon he was going to heaven, somehow we thought he just knew.

The last few days Jeydon was home, my mum had carried him into the bathroom and I can vividly remember her stopping there with him for a moment. Just like she was trying to capture everything about Jeydon. His smell, his soft skin, the weight of his body, the feeling of his sweet breath against her cheek. They were just both so peaceful. I know, that when we see Jeydon again, that he won't need to be carried anymore and that he will run to us and smile.

It's so hard to move house without Jeydon. This house was the last place he walked, the last place he ever was. The place his spirit now fills. I just want to cut and paste our bedroom into our new house and it just sucks knowing he won't be coming with us. That he'll never see this new house, or make new memories here with us. I know memories follow you wherever you may go, but having the real thing is always a hell of a lot better and I know many many people can agree with me on that one.

I guess I'll end my post here until next time.


God saw you getting tired,
When a cure was not to be.
So He wrapped his arms around you,
and whispered, "Come to me".
You didn't deserve what you went through,
So He gave you rest.
God's garden must be beautiful,
He only takes the best
And when I saw you sleeping,
So peaceful and free from pain
I could not wish you back
To suffer that again.

Thankyou, Jeydon for leaving us with so many memories that we hold closer than ever. We miss you and who you would have been so much but we know that for some reason that we will never know, you were needed in another place. I could repeat the same things over and over to you about how much we miss/love you, or how much this missing thing sucks. I know you're with Jesus, and forgive me for wanting you back here selfishly but it's so hard. I love you.

I would like everyone to take time to just remember Jeydon, and try not to dwell over the fact that he is gone now. He never dwelled over the fact that he was so sick, he knew he was, don't get me wrong, but he just lived. It didn't matter how many tubes he had sticking out of his frail body, or if he was in the middle of throwing up or a life-saving transfusion, his mind was never in that moment. He always thought about good and fun things to do, or worried of someone else becides himself. He knew the true meaning of love and laughter. And just like he'd be doing right now if he was here, no matter the circumstances, he'd be dancing or laughing or smiling and he'd want us to do the same. I know he'd rather we were dancing.

K xx.

The House That Grief Built. {001.}

In the next few weeks we will be moving house. Not anywhere too far, just a few towns over, still in the UK. My mum thought it'd be easier than it is with Jeydon gone, and she says she just cannot do it here without him. He's everywhere in our little house and whilst it is a comfort for myself, it's not for my mum. So we've found another cute little place, and soon we'll be occupying it by God's will. I believe that everything is just in His hands now. Its not gotten easier with the fact that Jeydon isn't here and I can't tell you how many times I just expect him to come running through our bedroom door. He still hasn't.

We're all doing okay.

I hope that Jeydon's story breaks no hearts, but brings others closer to eachother because that's what he would want.