A turbulent few months

All of a sudden its a new year. I know its February, way too late to say Happy New Year but seeing as I shockingly haven't blogged since November last year I feel it is only right. So Happy New Year.

There is good reason for my distance however. Mainly because saying Happy New Year to what began so badly didn't feel right. In all honesty the weeks that followed Christmas have been pretty shit. The Christmas period is always a difficult one for our family. As with many who have lost loved ones Christmas is when their presence is missed even more. Leading up to a day you spend with family...yet what if a member is no longer there? I was beyond excited for the boys however. Their first Christmas that they had an idea what was going on...or maybe we could selfishly enjoy for them. My brother and sister had decided to go away over Xmas to Disneyland. Something I do not blame Emma for doing considering it was her daughter we all crave to be with so much. It's an impossibly hard day for her. We did however have a lovely, relaxed Christmas Day with my parents, great Uncle, Nathan and the boys which ended in an epic game of cards and bubble and squeak as we decided to save the Christmas Day dinner stress and have the traditional turkey roast on Christmas Eve instead. (Take note, this is the BEST idea ever).

A week before this however Nathan found out his Dad had pancreatic cancer that had spread and he only had a week to live. So during this time not only had we been down to Kent to see him in hospital, what was also on Nathan's and my mind was...'when will we get the call?. Please don't let it be Christmas Day'. However, life had another tragedy to throw my way. On Boxing Day I found out one of my best friends, an amazing, inspirational and pivotal woman in my life was killed...on Christmas Day.

Unable to speak or think I screamed and crumbled to the floor. No, no, no...this cannot have happened. Not to Sam. Please not to Sam. In the moment I found out I couldn't make any sense of this cruel world we live in and I spent the night and the following days/weeks in yet another bubble of grief. Waking every day into the same nightmare.

Even looking back now those weeks seem a blur. I argued, I closed myself off, I lost all motivation, I got lazy with the food I was so excited to be cooking in my previous blog. I wanted to shut down but I played the great pretender card as I seem to have perfected. Inside I felt I was dying, to Nathan I was insufferable but to everyone else I was absolutely fine and coping really well.

I threw myself into helping wherever I could with the funeral arrangements. To take some stress away from Sam's family but also selfishly to keep me busy. I also believed I could help Sam's sisters Tanya and Martine given my experience after losing Rosie. I cried but not enough. I forced myself to the gym and pushed myself saying to myself, "do it for Sam" bringing myself to tears of anger and sadness and then running/spinning on through it. Then I would drink to try and take the pain away. Drinking has always been my Achilles heel, I enjoy wine and drink it socially. Obviously to the excess on many occasions but not for the numbing it can give (a feeling a knew all too well after losing Rosie). But this feeling, again, was what I craved during these weeks. One night I am ashamed about (so much so I have written this sentence and deleted it on countless times) is when I drank a whole bottle of vodka, mixed with orange juice so I couldn't taste it, alone until the early hours. Self-destruction. This was absolutely no way to keep Sam's memory alive. She would've been so disappointed.

Despite this realisation (and the banning of vodka) things didn't miraculously get better. Sam had been hit by a car and killed whilst walking to her part-time job on Christmas Day. A 37 year old BA air hostess and absolute ray of light. A friend I owe so much to. Without meeting her in Lanzarote in 2014 I never would have met Nathan and in turn wouldn't have had the twins. She brought so much joy and laughter to my world. She was probably one of the only friends I spoke to every single day, be that the huge deep and meaningful essays, the quick texts to check in or very commonly an inspirational quote or stupid meme. All of which I took for granted. I felt so unbelievably lonely even when surrounded by love at home.

Then on the 25th January, exactly a month after Sam died, I watched Nathan's dad take his last breath in a hospice surrounded by his children. (He was stubborn to the end and went on 6 weeks after his initial week to live). This experience not only brought back memories of watching my Nan die but also made me question, yet again, how would you rather go? I'm not trying to sound selfish to Nathan and his siblings loss but I couldn't comprehend it all. Since losing Rose in 2013 and then my Nan a year later the question has never really faded but it was a question that resurfaced again. Yet I still don't really have an answer to it.

A funeral, the final goodbye, is a source of solace for many. I thought it would do the same for me. The day was an amazing send off. The crematorium and wake was packed. I, alongside 5 other of Sam's friends, carried her in to Queen's, "You're my Best Friend". And then I read a eulogy. I broke down a couple of times but managed to just about hold it together with some deep breaths along the way to compose myself. I had practised it many times alone, never once getting through it without crying however. Always stumbling when towards the end of it I read;

"My mum has always said you need just 5 friends you can rely on - just a handful - that you can call upon at anytime for anything. Someone who would drop everything and come regardless. I just wish there was a way that heaven could receive those calls in case I ever need you Sam."

Overall the funeral didn't really signify anything more than she really was gone. It didn't help and any motivation to continue living as before completely evaporated as did my ability to be able to support Nathan through his tough time too. 

The emotions I have felt recently are very similar to those when I first lost Rose. This feeling of a weight on your chest. A pain that physically hurts. The constant Great Pretender act (as so aptly sung by Freddie Mercury). 

I spent the last weekend with Sam's sister Tanya, just down the road from where Sam lived near Brighton, and although we met under such horrible circumstances I feel it helped me mentally. I feel I can for the first time help someone go through this, openly and honestly. I know it doesn't get better, but I know you learn to live with it. You learn to create a 'new normal' and we stayed up late into the night to discuss things. More so than I have with anyone else. We also made plans towards a big event in Sam's memory. To do something positive for Sam and also be another thing to keep us busy. No-one can truly understand another's grief, something I know all too well, but we can support each other through it. 

I still feel lonely on many occasions. I forever will. From the loss of so many beautiful women in my life who have made me who I am, be that from their living life and their passing. I will also forever grieve. However I know I cannot do them proud at the bottom of a vodka bottle! So I am back. IRONMAN Wales is on. I have some work to do, I know that. I have lost a lot of fitness and I have some serious weight to shift. I also have The London Marathon in 2 months raising money for the Mental Health Foundation in memory of Rose. I may not get the time I really wanted but I have Rosie in my heart and Sam running alongside me as my training and racing partner. WE have got this!

My full eulogy to Sam is below:

Sam. Sammy. Samantha.

Crazy. Hilarious. Smiley.

Beautiful. Caring. Honest.

Kind. Genuine. Selfless.

Daughter. Sister. Auntie. Cousin. Niece. Friend.

Legend. Inspiration.

Sam was one of those people you never forget you’ve met. Even if your paths only crossed once she made an impression. She made everyone feel welcome and invited you into her world of fun, which was infectious. Not just one in a million, but truly I would say one of a kind. Unique, special and simply irreplaceable.

As Sam perfectly described herself in one of her blogs, “I am Sam. I am totally bonkers in a wonderful way. I try not to take life too seriously and live my life by quotes”.

My first meeting with Sam was just so. She made her mark the second she said hello. An instant click in our personalities. She brought me back to a Hollie I thought I had lost while in the midst of my own mental battles. Her confidence and carefree attitude was invigorating and inspiring. We even said while cycling around the mountains of Lanzarote we were meant to meet for our own recoveries. We both went to that island to find ourselves again and it has since become a second home and refuge for us. Our spiritual home I suppose. She opened my eyes to believe things do happen for a reason. Especially as on the second day I was with her I met my now husband. My happy marriage, blessed with 2 beautiful boys, is down to this amazing lady and for that alone I am eternally grateful.

As well as sharing her spiritual beliefs she also shared her wicked humour. I can honestly say there aren’t many people that could make me laugh quite like Sam did. I in turn shared my love of the colour pink, so much so she came to love the colour herself. From then on in I think most of our photos together involved some outrageous pink outfit or a luminous pink accessory.

Since meeting her in 2014 I don’t think we went a couple of days without talking to each other. Be that deep and meaningful essays that normally happened when both on night shifts, to the casual “you ok?”. The voice messages of her blasting out a tune. The inspirational affirmations. And then there was the constant hilarious memes, gifs, funny selfies (of which she was a pro) and the videos, all of which many of you will have received. Her way of checking in I suppose - checking we still shared the same stupid humour. Much of them I’m sure aren’t suitable to share however - especially with her love of a certain C word! She seemed to surround herself with likeminded weirdos...no offence! 

Since this terrible tragedy, what I’ve found so amazing after speaking to her friends (of which she had so many from all walks of life) is how she made every single one of us feel so special. And despite facing her own demons she would always have time to focus on yours and support you in any way she could. A true selfless superwoman.

A superwoman who surrounded herself with likeminded strong and powerful women; a firm believer in female empowerment and strength. Therefore, it felt right to have a majority strong female crew of pallbearers today. Her friends lifted her up in life, so it only felt right we did that for the final time.

She loved nature and the simple beauty it can bring. BA and the travel it provided enriched this passion. As well as loving all the friends, colleagues and customers she met along the way when flying.

Her positive outlook was so inspirational, and she bloody loved a good quote or affirmation. She often said, “Life is beautiful”. She made people see that, even when she or others were clouded by the many evils or upset by it. This is something to take forward into our own lives now she cannot be there to say it. Sam’s legacy. Open your eyes to the simple beauty that surrounds you.

As I’m sure we all know Sam also inspired through her sporting endeavours. A bloody awesome swimmer, winning many events and ‘chicking’ many many men! She was also a determined runner and cyclist and despite saying she wasn’t a natural athlete, she surely made it look easy sometimes, and always, always with a smile on her face. Completing countless triathlons, marathons and half IRONMANs.

Sam and I had always vowed to race a full IRONMAN together. Unfortunately, due to an injury a few weeks before our planned event in 2015 she never made it to the start line with me. I plan to do IRONMAN Wales in September and Sam will be my race and training partner. She will be in my heart from start to finish.

When the broken bones prevented her from running it didn’t stop her physically pushing herself. So, she went onto bodybuilding. Coming second in her first ever competitive event at The Miss Galaxy Universe where she radiated body confidence. She overcame so much self-doubt to go out on that stage in her bikini, which I remember she wanted to be inspired by butterflies. Not only did she love them but they represented the beauty of nature and symbolised transformation; two things that inspired her.

A truly beautiful and inspirational woman who proves you really can do anything you put your mind to. One of her favourite quotes states: “Believe in yourself and all that you are and know that there is something inside you greater than any obstacle”.

Her great loves. Her mum, her sisters and her nephews whom she adored with all her heart and gave her so much joy and happiness. And of course her dog Ellie that she adored walking at sunset.

She had so much love to give and it breaks my heart that she can no longer be here to give it. I really hope she is looking down and can see the impact she has had and how loved she was. To me I feel Sam’s life was really just entering a new wonderful phase. She raved positivity so we need to radiate it back as she would want.

Another thing to take from Sam is to take pictures! As already mentioned she was a selfie queen and I am so lucky Sam loved taking them of all our adventures…and misadventures. Regardless of how silly I felt at the time, I now have them look back on, laugh at and treasure.

My mum has always said you need just 5 friends you can rely on - just a handful - that you can call upon at anytime for anything. Someone who would drop everything and come regardless. I just wish there was a way that heaven could receive those calls in case I ever need you Sam.

I’m reminded of the story of a son asking his mum, “why do the best die so soon?”. Her reply, “When you’re in a garden, which flowers do you pick first? The most beautiful ones”.

Sam you were a ray of light on dark days and the world will forever be a bit darker now you’re gone. Please use your light to guide us all down here.

Remember, “If you think tomorrow starts without me. Don’t think we’re far apart. For every time you think of me. I’m right here; In your heart.”

There is oh so much more I could say but I’m going to finish now.

Thank you Sam for simply being you. My life changed for the better the second you entered it. My resolution is, be more like Sam. Be silly, be kind, take pictures and dance like no one is watching!

I miss you and I will love you forever, our crazy Sam. Until we meet again.

Samantha Emma May. 03.01.1981 - 25.12.2018

Ronald Trevor Holmes 29.09.1943 - 25.01.2019