Deathbed wedding for my 8-year-old
Married on his deathbed..
Wednesday 24th September 2008
Some mums feel pushed out when their sons get married, because most of the arrangements are taken care of by the bride's family. But there was no chance of that with my boy, Reece.
'I want to wear that shirt I saw in Next,' he told me, very matter of fact.
'And I want a traditional wedding dress,' his fiancée, Elleanor, added. 'Now, who shall we invite?'
I looked over at Elleanor's mum, Hannah Pursglove, and smiled. Because I knew what we were both thinking. You can plan all you want, we'll be the ones doing the legwork and footing the bill! Not that we minded. I'd have done anything to make Reece happy. You see, he wasn't a grown-up, looking forward to starting out with his new wife. No, Reece was just 8, as was Elleanor, and this 'wedding' would be one of the last things he'd ever do.
Four years earlier, in July 2004, Reece had been diagnosed with leukaemia. It was terrifying for all of us, but especially for Reece. So my partner, Mick Thompson, 28, and I gave the chemotherapy and general anaesthetic funny names to make them less scary. During the following four years, he'd had gallons of 'Harry Potter's go-go juice', along with countless 'magic sleeps' so doctors could test his bone marrow.
We'd spent so much time at hospital that Reece had lots of friends on the ward. Many of them passed away, but he tried to cope.
'They're in the sky now,' I'd tell him, hoping I'd never have to tell his brother, Dylan, 7, and sister Ellie, 4, the same about him. But hoping wasn't enough, and in May 2008, I was called to see Reece's consultant. He'd been in hospital for five months, so I braced myself.
'I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do,' she told me.
I could hardly catch my breath. For four years, I'd tried not to think about this moment. But there was no denying it any more.
'How long has he got?' I gulped.
'Two weeks,' she said. 'But you never know with Reece.'
Heartbroken, I did what I'd always done when I received bad news about my son. Gone downstairs, lit a cigarette and cried my eyes out. Once I'd pulled myself back together, I went back up to the ward.
'Guess what, mate,' I said to Reece, flashing a smile. 'We're going home.'
'Yes!' he grinned, punching the air.
He was ecstatic. How could I tell him he was dying?
I didn't. I wanted him to enjoy his last few weeks.
So Mick and I put Reece into a bed in the living room, then we started organising treats for him. He'd always liked Ferraris, so my friend, Sandra Sheldon, 42, arranged for him to have a ride in one. He spent the day with Red Watch from Kingsway fire station, we went to West Midlands Safari Park, Laser Quest, and we had a visit from some Derby County footballers.
Reece loved pirates, so we had a pirate party for all his friends from the hospital and his school, Brackensdale Junior.
'Arrr,' he laughed as I painted on his moustache and beard.
By now, he was getting weaker, so I thought our adventures were over. Turns out, he had one last surprise for me. Having missed so much school, he wasn't great at reading and one day, in June, he passed me his mobile.
'What does that say?' he asked.
It was a text from Elleanor.
Elleanor had been Reece's best friend since they were 6, and they'd been inseparable.
On Valentine's Day, she'd brought him a card at the hospital and she was always there at his bedside, cheering him up. So now, I studied the text she'd sent and read it out:
'Did you mean what you asked me the other day?' I read.
A mischievous look spread across Reece's face.
'What are you up to?' I asked.
'I've asked Elleanor to marry me,' he smiled proudly. 'Will you reply and tell her I meant it?'
Bless him. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So I tapped out a reply for him, and seconds later, she sent a message back.
OK, I'll marry you.
Reece's face was a picture. And that's how we ended up sitting around the table, planning
a wedding for two 8-year-olds.
'I'll take care of the details,' Hannah said.
All I had to do was pick up the shirt that Reece had his eye on — white, and covered with little skulls — and keep him well enough for the day.
Sadly, on 4 July, the morning of the wedding, I'd never seen him so ill.
'We'd better get you ready,' I said.
I got him out of his bed, dressed him in his new outfit and placed a pink rose in his pocket.
'Very handsome,' I smiled, blinking away my tears.
I was desperately trying to hold it together. But then I looked out the window and was overcome with emotion. There was Elleanor, in her white embroidered dress and veil, clutching a bouquet of pink roses.
As I opened the front door, my eyes filled.
'You look beautiful,' I said, showing her through to the living room.
Then I sat beside Reece and took his hand as Mick, Sandra and a couple of nurses gathered around, and Hannah began the ceremony.
'Elleanor, do you want to marry Reece?' she asked.
'I do,' she said.
Next, she turned to Reece.
'Reece, do you want to marry Elleanor?'
I squeezed his hand and, with a big grin, he said: 'I do.'
They swapped rings, his, a silver skull, hers, a silver band with a pink stone. And that was it. Five minutes and it was all over. But it was the most beautiful wedding I'd ever seen.
Sadly, Reece was too ill for them to stay long and just 20 minutes later, he said goodbye to his bride. I put him back to bed and held his hand. He seemed relaxed, content.
'Mum,' he whispered. 'Can you be married in the sky?'
My heart skipped. In the sky. That's what we'd always said when we'd talked about his friends at the hospital passing away.
Suddenly, it hit me. Reece knew he was dying. All I could do was give him a big hug as I fought back tears. Reece drifted off to sleep and only then, my tears came thick and fast.
The next day, I sent Dylan and Ellie out with family and sat with Reece. Even though he was
dosed up on medicine, my poor baby was screaming in pain.
'Budge up,' I said, and got on the bed beside him, holding him tight.
I felt his breathing becoming slow. I looked at Mick, who was sitting across the room.
'He's going,' I whispered, holding him tighter.
'We all love you, and we're all proud of you,' I whispered.
And at 11.50pm, Reece took his last breath.
Tears streamed down my face as I dressed him in his pirate pyjamas. Then, I went to talk to Dylan and Ellie, who'd arrived home. I took both their hands.
'You know Reece was ill,' I explained. 'Well, he's gone now.'
Dylan stared at the floor and Ellie just looked confused.
'His body is in the living room, but the bits that we loved about him are in the sky,' I gulped.
My heart broke again as I took them in to say goodbye.
Mick and I started to plan the funeral at Markeaton Crematorium.
'We'll dress him in his wedding suit,' I said, remembering how happy he'd looked just one day earlier. 'And there's no way I'm having a hearse.'
Instead we chose a horse and carriage and a coffin decorated with a pirate ship. We asked everyone to wear black, but to have a skull and crossbones somewhere on them.
On the day, 15 July, I dressed in a black trouser suit, using Reece's favourite skull bandana as a scarf. As I walked into the crematorium to Greased Lightnin', Reece's favourite song, I tried to remember the happy times. The place was packed. Teachers, dinner ladies, and nurses who'd helped Reece, plus loads of family and friends, all there to say goodbye.
But it wasn't until after the ceremony that I saw Elleanor. We were about to release some pirate balloons into the sky, when
she came rushing over.
'I've got something for you,' she said, and passed me a balloon of my own. A wedding balloon.
'For you to keep,' she told me.
She'd been so brave through all of this that I tried to do the same.
And I'm still trying.I can only guess what Reece would have been like when he grew up. I'd guess a terrible flirt, a wheeler-dealer, and the kind of bloke everyone wanted to buy
a drink for. But I'll never know for sure. So thank God I have the memories of the day he was the happiest groom in the world. I'll treasure them.