Last week I got a soy chai from the hospital cafe. My favourite barista was there and she recognised me from last year (probably from the soy order). She asked whether I was keeping well and I really wanted to tell her about Oliver's passing and ask whether she remembered him. There are so few people to grieve for him and I feel at a loss of how to move forward. If I ever see Leo again, I'm going to cry and sob and never let him go.
I've been in touch with Oliver's mum recently. I want to include him in my art project for 2015. Perhaps even put aside some of the potential proceeds for his family or a cause he would have supported (all his assets and bank accounts were left to Animals Australia). It seems incredible and almost fated that I have found Essie and her wonderful local artist commune and she's agreed to mentor me and support my work (thank you God, thank you universe, thank you, thank you, thank you...I've come so far and I'm still going).
I sent Garnet an email last week to try and explain suicidal ideation at its peak but received no reply. I'm terrified of revealing too much and overwhelming her but also bloody scared that she'll hold her step dad responsible for the pain she feels now - something which is just so far removed from what a suicide death should communicate. Extract from a recent email from Oliver's mum: All my waking days and dreams are constantly about Oliver, the pain and sadness are overwhelming. It’s been 7 months now and I miss him terribly. Family and friends have now moved on with their lives and seem to be expecting that I should be too, but it’s not possible.