I’ve got about 130 messages still on my phone which I'll never delete

My last living memory of Dan was that he stayed home on the day he died to watch the football with me instead of skating with his friends. He loved football. He was captain and halfback with his local team. His favourite player was Jonathan Thurston, even though the Broncos were his favourite team. Early that night we were sitting, watching the footy and he put his arm around me and said, ‘I’m a great son staying here with you all day rather than going out with my friends.’ He was so cheeky and loving.
Then later when he was about to go out, the last thing he said to his dad and I was, ‘I love you,’ before he walked out the door. I remember his smile as he waved goodbye to me.

My beautiful boy Dan died in a car crash on 25th April 2008 – Anzac Day. He was only 16 years old. 
There’s nothing to prepare you for it – that knock on the door to tell you your child is dead – it’s so final. Dan walked out the door and is never coming back again. 
He was a back seat passenger, the driver and two other passengers survived with non life threatening injuries. How do you make sense of what has happened? You question where is the fairness, ‘why didn’t my son crawl out too?’
If I had put my foot down and told him he couldn’t go out that night I could have changed things. The first person you blame is yourself. You’re the parent, you’re supposed to protect your child, but I can’t change what happened and I can’t bring him back.
If there was one thing Dan wouldn’t have wanted it would be for him to have made me cry. When I first found out I held my emotions together, to be strong for my family, my husband, my daughters and my parents. I think it was the shock. Then I just couldn’t stop the flood of tears. I know Dan wouldn’t have wanted that, it would have made him sad. There will always be tears for him. There will always be that feeling of sadness.
Dan was a precious gift I brought into this world. He touched so many people in his short life. He was popular, outgoing, a good friend, a loving son and brother. I am so proud he was my son.
He would send me little ‘love you’ messages. I’ve got about 130 messages still on my phone which I'll never delete. They’re so precious to me. He put the ring tones and pictures on my phone too. I’ll never change those either. I’m scared one day I’ll lose these, lose the little things that still keep me close to him. 
It changes the course of your life, the way you see the world and the people around you. You lose friends and family because they don’t know how to treat you anymore. Your priorities change. You learn never to take anything or anyone for granted in this life as it can be taken from you in an instant. You’ve had it happen.
No other family should have to go through what mine has. There are no words that can describe it. It is a rollercoaster of emotions.
We’re really trying to find a positive out of the negative. That’s why I’ve written this. I don’t want Dan to have died in vain. We just want to try and prevent it from happening to anyone else.
 

It was like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from

The pain of losing mum is still as vivid as yesterday