by Jane Plume
A short while after they had arrived we noticed that Shaun’s breathing had changed to loud rattling, gasping breaths. The nurse called for the doctor who examined him and informed us that Shaun was starting to overload, which meant that the fluid in his lungs was increasing. He said that if he didn’t improve soon they would take the decision to withdraw treatment. This was too much to hear. I rudely barged past the nurse. Lisa tried to reach for me but I headed straight out the door, and then allowed myself to fall to pieces.
Lisa followed me out and held me for goodness’ knows how long until the tears subsided, then I pulled myself together. Shaun needed us now. We had to be strong and stand united for him. Lisa had to leave for the children and left me sitting on Shaun’s right side holding his hand, David on his left holding his hand and Mick sitting at the foot of his bed. We were sitting quietly, chatting about nothing in particular, when suddenly the room went eerily quiet. There was no sound coming from Shaun. He had stopped breathing.
Instinctively I shook his shoulders. ‘Shaun, Shaun, wake up, please wake up.’ I had pressed the nurse call button and they came immediately.
‘I’m sorry,’ said a nurse gently. ‘He has gone.’
All three of us were sobbing. Shaun had slipped away at the age of just 40 years old. This terrible cruel disease had claimed another life, and Lewis and Ashton were orphans.
CHAPTER 11
TOO MANY GOODBYES
The three of us – David, Mick and I – sat for a while with Shaun. We continued to speak to him. David had broken the news to Lisa and, as he was so stricken with grief and unable to speak to his parents, Lisa agreed to speak to them on his behalf. David managed to speak to his brother Andy, who was away on holiday. I told other family and friends, and I called home to speak to Nat and Rich, who were with the kids; Ashton was fast asleep in bed but Lewis was still awake in his bedroom watching TV. I asked that they waited and let me tell him when I got home.
It wasn’t long before the news started to spread and texts from people wanting to pass on their condolences started flooding in. I suddenly panicked. What if Lewis, Marco or Millie saw a comment on Facebook before I had had a chance to tell them the news myself? I quickly rang Rich and Nat and explained my fears. They agreed to tell Lewis, just in case, and the three of us made the decision that it was time to leave together.
A nurse had been in to take some of Shaun’s tubes out and, as she removed them, she said, ‘Sorry, Shaun,’ which I found touching. She advised us to take all his personal belongings home with us, including jewellery, so I took his leather bracelet from his wrist and passed it to David, telling him, ‘Look after this till he can have it back.’ I hated removing his yellow Livestrong wristband, which he had worn since the day we had got them, just a few weeks after he had been diagnosed, as had Gina and other family and friends. He had never removed it before. I placed it over my own wrist where my own wristband sat, then removed his necklace, telling him that he could have it back soon.
The three of us each said our own personal goodbye. I asked Shaun to give Gina and my mum, dad and sister a hug from me and, once again, I promised to look after his boys. I tried to tell myself not to look back as we left the room, but I couldn’t help myself, neither could David. We both broke down yet again as we softly closed the door behind us.
From the hospital Mick drove us straight to my house where Marco and Millie were with a friend. Marco heard Mick’s car pull up and was already at the door before I put my key in the lock. He took one look at our faces and he instantly knew. He threw his arms around me and pulled me close to him. I managed to mumble, ‘He’s gone, Marco.’
‘I know, Mum, I know,’ he sobbed.
I’m not used to seeing Marco cry and the raw emotion in those tears was heart wrenching. I went upstairs to Millie, who was sitting on the end of her bed, already crying. She had heard us downstairs and had guessed what I had come to tell her. I wrapped my arms around her and she didn’t hold back, letting the sobs come.
‘At least he isn’t in pain any more,’ she said, eventually. ‘He is back with Auntie Gina.’ I nodded in agreement. Millie followed me downstairs and went straight over to hug David, who had been a close family friend since Gina’s death.
By the time I had gathered up the few belongings that I needed, Marco and Millie had disappeared, so I went upstairs to look for them. Millie was curled up in bed and Marco was sitting on the bed next to her holding her hand. Seeing them looking out for each other in such a caring way set me off again. I knew they loved each other but I was used to them arguing like cat and dog, and I hadn’t seen them look this close since Gina had died. I asked them to come back to Shepshed with me but they said they’d rather stay at home. They knew that I would have to talk to Lewis and Ashton and, in truth, I don’t think they felt strong enough to face them. I hated leaving them after telling them something so awful, but I knew my friend would look after them and I had to respect their wishes. Most of all they had each other.
There were lots more tears and hugs as I kissed them both goodnight.
‘Promise me you will call me if you need me,’ I said. ‘I will come straight back to collect you.’
They nodded and I gave them one last, lingering hug before we headed back to Shepshed. Mick drove us to David and Lisa’s house, where I shared a tearful hug with Lisa, but I was eager to get home to Lewis who, by now, would have been told the news by Rich and Nat.
As we pulled up outside, I sat for a minute to compose myself, then went in to Rich and Nat and asked where Lewis was. They pointed upstairs, so I went straight up to his room, where he lay in bed, wide awake.
‘I’m so, so sorry,’ I said, as I cradled him in my arms, letting him cry. I sat with him for a long time, not really saying anything, just being there for him. Eventually, I left him with his head buried in a pillow, hoping he would get some sleep.
As I stood up to leave his room, I said, ‘I will always be here for you, Lewis, I promise.’ I hovered on the threshold and, as I slowly closed the door behind me, I heard him sob deeply. It was a sound that broke my heart.
I went back downstairs to Rich, Nat and my brother Mick, and we sat talking for a long time, trying to make sense of everything. Eventually, we all turned in and I tried to get to sleep, but to no avail. All I could think about was how I was going to tell Ashton, a seven-year-old boy, that his dad was gone forever.
I gave up after a couple of hours and came downstairs to make myself a hot drink. I had just filled the kettle up when Mick, who had stayed the night, walked into the kitchen. I apologised for waking him and he assured me I hadn’t, that he hadn’t slept either.
After the events of the last twenty-four hours, I felt completely drained, yet I knew there was still so much to do and sort out. Mick offered to help, grabbing a paper and pen and telling me to shout things out as I thought of them so we occupied ourselves with that until it was time for the kids to get up.
It was a while before I heard Ashton’s door creak open and my stomach lurched at the thought of what I had to say to him. He walked into the kitchen rubbing sleep from his eyes.
‘Can I have my breakfast please, Auntie Jane?’ he asked sleepily.
‘In a minute, mate,’ I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. ‘I need to talk to you about something very important first.’ I tapped my lap. He climbed on and snuggled into me.
‘Ashton,’ I began, having to take a few seconds to compose myself. ‘You know Daddy has been really poorly and in hospital?’
He nodded, looking into my face.
‘Ashton, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but Daddy has died. He has gone to be a twinkle star with Mummy.’
His little face crumpled and he buried his head in my shoulder and sobbed. Mick was sitting at the table, I saw him turn his head away to discreetly wipe away the tears that were falling. I sat holding Ashton as I had done Lewis the night before and I made him the same promise, ‘I’m here for you.’ Ashton asked if Lewis knew, and I exp
lained that he did and asked if he wanted to see him, even though he was still in bed. Ashton simply nodded. I carried him up to Lewis’s room, where he promptly climbed into bed and cuddled up to his big brother.
With the boys comforting each other upstairs, I turned to my brother for comfort. David and Lisa arrived a few minutes later, and then the stream of visitors, well-wishers, cards and tributes started flooding in, just as they had two years earlier when Gina had been taken. The amount of support was amazing.
Emma was among the visitors that morning. She hadn’t been around much in recent months as she had been caring for her granddad who had been very ill, but Rich had texted her after we had rung from the hospital to tell her of Shaun’s death, and she really wanted to help in any way she could. She mucked in straight away with domestic jobs, tidying up after the visitors had left and entertaining the little ones.
With Shaun having planned almost everything just a couple of weeks earlier, there weren’t too many decisions to be made, but there were still lots of arrangements to organise. I spoke to each of the friends that Shaun had requested would be his pallbearers and they all said they would be honoured. I phoned the funeral director’s and asked to speak to Suzanne, but the lovely lady on the other end of the phone explained that Suzanne had moved to the Loughborough branch. By coincidence, the lady I spoke to was from Shepshed herself and had gone to school with Shaun. She promised to get hold of Suzanne and get her to contact me. True to her word Suzanne rang me within the hour, deeply saddened to learn of Shaun’s death, and said that she was more than happy to deal with the arrangements. I was relieved as I knew it was what Shaun would have wanted. She reassured me that she would get Shaun home as soon as possible and said she would come out to the house the following afternoon. In the meantime, we continued to try to make arrangements the best we could.
That afternoon I went to visit Ann and Mick, Shaun’s parents. They were absolutely devastated and there were no words I could offer to bring them any comfort. I sat holding Ann’s hand. Mick just kept repeating that he wished he had put his arms around Shaun as he was taken out to the ambulance on that awful night. The final decline had been so fast, they hadn’t had time to visit him in the hospital but, in a way, that may have been a mercy. Ann has since told me that she is glad her memories are of the ‘usual Shaun’.
‘None of us had expected it to be so quick,’ I reassured them. ‘There was nothing we could do.’
In truth, I had been questioning myself since the moment he passed away. How could I have not noticed that Shaun was so ill? I know that Shaun was a very proud man and would often hide his pain, but in less than forty-eight hours he had gone from his normal self, laughing and joking with the kids, to not being here at all. The doctors explained pneumonia often meant a rapid decline and I knew the same had happened to my sister, but I was looking for someone to blame, even if it was myself.
Suzanne came out to see us the following afternoon. I asked Lewis if he wanted to join us but he said no, so David, Lisa and I went through the wish list that Shaun had written. Suzanne had also arranged for the vicar to visit us and I was relieved to hear it would be Chris, the same vicar that had conducted Gina’s service. As Suzanne left I said, ‘Please tell us as soon as he is home.’
She rubbed my arm, as though to comfort me, and replied, ‘I promise.’
When Chris came to see us Lewis said he would like to be present, as he knew Chris from services at school and also went to school with his daughter. As before, Chris was warm and kind. We talked about the wish list that Shaun had left and he was more than happy with it but he noted that there were no hymns and asked if we would like any. Before the meeting I had talked this through with various people, including David, and we decided that, although Shaun wasn’t religious, it would be appropriate to have ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’, a hymn that resonates to rugby fans. In fact, when he had renewed his wedding vows to Gina he had led the lads in a chorus of it himself. Chris agreed it was very fitting. As he had done before he said a quiet prayer before he stood to leave.
David, Lisa and I went to The Bottom Railway, the local pub where Shaun had requested his wake be held. The landlord Lee was a personal friend of Shaun’s and had played rugby with him for many years. As we sat trying to guess the numbers that would need to be catered for, I had an idea.
‘Can we bring his bike in here?’ I asked.
The three of them looked at me like I had finally lost the plot. I went on to explain that, rather than have the traditional condolence book we had for Gina (which I must say holds some lovely words and tributes, and is tucked safely away for the boys when they are older), we could bring his bike and some Post-it notes, so that people could write their personal messages and stick them to his bike. They all thought it was a wonderful idea, so we agreed that is what we would do.
Shaun’s brother Andy and I were at David and Lisa’s house when I got the call from Suzanne to say that Shaun was ‘home’. The news, although welcome, brought on a fresh surge of emotion and we were all in tears again. I knew I had to go over and see Shaun as soon as I could, so I made plans to go over that afternoon.
As I stood outside the little room, waiting to go into the chapel of rest, I had a feeling of déjà vu, remembering the day I stood in the same spot, waiting to see my best friend. Slowly I opened the door and stepped inside, Shaun was dressed in the red T-shirt and jeans that he had requested and he truly looked at peace. His face was relaxed, no longer racked with the tension of putting up with pain, and it really did seem as though he was asleep – like he had dropped off on the sofa after having a big Sunday dinner and a pint or two. I sat with him, held his hand and talked to him for a while. I placed the Livestrong wristband back on his wrist and told him that David would give him his other bracelet back soon. I unclasped his necklace that was hanging around my own neck and put it back around his. As I left I told him that I would see him again soon and placed a kiss on his forehead.
I went back a number of times, as I had with Gina, again because I hated the thought of him being on his own. Plenty of people visited the chapel and most of them went back more than once. Millie decided she would like to say goodbye to Shaun in person. She came with me on one visit and said how very peaceful he looked. She said she was glad (if that’s the right word) to have seen him looking so free of pain, and she held his hand and told him how much she missed him – and her Auntie Gina. Both Marco and Lewis had taken the decision that they didn’t want to visit, and I accepted that. They each had their own special memories of the last time they had seen him. Those memories were the ones they wanted to keep alive in their heads, and in their hearts.
• • •
On the morning of his funeral I once again laid out the boys’ black trousers, white shirts and ties. This time, though, I didn’t give them black ties. They each wore a Shepshed Rugby Football Club tie that had belonged to their dad. Lewis got himself ready and I helped Ashton and Anni-Mae to dress. David helped Marco with his tie and Millie fussed over me. Mick and Shaun’s auntie Margaret were there with me too and I knew my other brother Rich and my niece Sam would be waiting at the church for us.
As he had requested, I went to see Shaun for one final farewell that morning.
It was hard knowing this would be the last time I would see him. I had had to say goodbye to too many important people in my life, and the memories of burying Gina and my sister Ann were all too fresh in my mind.
Shaun looked the same, as though he was sleeping; I took his hand and told him, once again, that I would love and care for his boys as my own. I asked him to give Gina the biggest hug for me and make sure that she knew how much I missed her. I placed sealed envelopes containing letters from the boys in the coffin with him and a picture that Anni-Mae had drawn, just as she had with Gina, and I smiled as I looked at the rugby ball that David had placed next to him.
Finally, I kissed him on the forehead yet again and said, ‘Sleep well, Shaun.’
As I arrived back at the house Lewis was waiting by the front door for me and enveloped me into his arms, so we stood for a while having a cuddle. Then it was time to go.
As the hearse and the funeral cars pulled up outside, I was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of panic.
‘I can’t,’ I gasped. ‘I can’t do this.’
Everyone was really supportive, telling me, ‘Take your time. You can do it.’
Luckily, Lewis and Ashton were already standing in the hallway with Marco, Millie and Anni-Mae so they couldn’t see me panic. I knew I had to pull myself together, if only for the sake of the boys, so I took a deep breath and walked out to them, taking a small hand in each of my own as we walked up the drive, all of us looking at the floor. I helped the little ones with their seatbelts, and turned in my seat to offer my hand to each of the older ones in the seat behind me. I squeezed each of their hands in turn, and then the cars pulled slowly away.
After travelling to church in the two cars, seated as Shaun had requested, we were met by the pallbearers. I knew the church was already packed to the rafters as there were a number of well-wishers standing outside as they couldn’t fit in. I stood in the middle of Ashton and Anni-Mae, one of their little hands in each of mine. Lewis, Marco and Millie would walk behind us. As we were just about to walk through the church doors, I turned to see that Marco and Millie had each taken one of Lewis’s hands in theirs. Our families’ lives had been brought together by friendship and love, and forced together by tragedy, and yet in the midst of our sadness we were united as one. I was so proud of them all that I can’t even find the words to describe it.
We walked into church to the strains of the familiar Starship song. Shaun had chosen to enter church to the song that was special to him and Gina, the same one he had played at her funeral: ‘Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now’. My eye drifted to the sea of colour – the motocross riders had all worn their race shirts, as before.
