There I Was: Here I Am

By Christine Ball

I started to write this book during a time when my mind and body were at its weakest, when I could only live from one hour to the next. I was living with addictions and the pain and trauma that no mother should have to endure after the tragic and sudden loss of my beautiful son, Naylor. It was self-help that started me on a journey to recovery, and eventually I learned to channel my mind, body, and soul.

This book also gives an insight to the life of a little boy growing into a man while battling grief for his father and struggling to live his dream.

I wrote this book from my heart. I relived every word, and it wasnt easy. I am from the Romany culture, and so I found it hard to put my private life in black and white for everyone to read, but doing this has enabled me to help so many others. My book is raw but honest, and I know that it will help anyone who is also going through unbearable emotional pain to know that they are never alone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Nov 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9781504390378

Christine Ball

Christine Ball is of Romany Gypsy background and recently lost her Husband. She also lost her Son Naylor 13 years ago in a car accident. After years of suffering from depression it has inspired her to write this book to help others. She is a mother of three children, a grandmother of twelve and a great-grandmother of three. She currently works in a small family run deli.

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Copyright © 2017 Christine Ball.

Text and Pictures: Christine Ball

Edited by: Rosie Barham

Illustrations: Peter Le-Pard

Design: Rosemary Reed ( or Infinity House)

Additional photos: Terry Doe

Cover Design: Alex Sepel

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Print information available on the last page.

ISBN: 978-1-5043-9036-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-9038-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-9037-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017917277

Balboa Press rev. date: 11/15/2017

CONTENTS

Dedication

Foreword

Thank You All

Introduction Remembrance

Chapter One Time Stood Still

Chapter Two My Family Background

Chapter Three Every Occasion Was Special

Chapter Four Married With Children

Chapter Five The Descent

Chapter Six Sitting Up

Chapter Seven The Funeral

Chapter Eight Shock

Chapter Nine Living The Nightmare

Chapter Ten The Dream And His Presence

Chapter Eleven Fear

Chapter Twelve The Box Of Goodies

Chapter Thirteen The Flash Back

Chapter Fourteen The Saddest Christmas

Chapter Fifteen The Inquest

Chapter Sixteen Two Hearts Beat As One

Chapter Seventeen Poisoned By Grief

Chapter Eightteen Slipped Back In Time

Chapter Nineteen Gone Back In Time

Chapter Tewnty Self-Destruct

Chapter Tewnty One Goodbye To My Other Children

Chapter Tewnty Two The Lorry Driver

Chapter Tewnty Three My Beautiful Mirage

Chapter Twenty Four First Steps To Recovery

Chapter Twenty Five Epilogue

The Last Chapter Alfie

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DEDICATION

I dedicate this book to my beautiful Son Naylor and husband Alfie. I will hold them both in my heart forever, and not forgetting my children Alfie and Phyllis, also my grandson Naylor and all my other grandchildren who I love very dearly. And so important to me all the heartbroken mothers and fathers in the world. There is no Pain deeper than the loss of a child, no one should have to suffer this Pain alone.

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FOREWORD

Christine needed to write this book. First, she needed to write it for herself, as a means of visualising, qualifying and ultimately dealing with her grief. Second, she needed to write this book to help others recover from the destructive power of irreplaceable loss. Christine is a person driven by the desire to help others and the second reason for the existence of this book soon overtook the first.

She is a truly remarkable woman who lives for her family and friends, and as you will see as you read this book, Christine is blessed with an incredible will to survive, recover, and go on to be who she was always meant to be. She also has a gift for communication, empathy and understanding, and this book will illustrate that. Within these pages, Christine has been open and honest to a degree some will find shocking. Romani people do not usually bare their souls as Christine has, but her book could not be what it, and she, needed it to be, without it’s brutal honesty and I applaud her for that. I know you will, too.

Christine wrote every world of this book from her heart. She wrote it through immense pain and she wrote it with unlimited love. It has helped her overcome the worst loss any mother could suffer and it has helped make her a stronger, wiser and more caring person. This book has already fulfilled its original purpose and now it’s time for it to complete it’s most important task. I’m sure it will do just that.

Terry Doe

THANK YOU ALL

There are so many wonderful people I need to thank for helping me with this book, if I thanked them all individually I’d need another book to do it. Knowing me, no matter how hard I tried to remember, I’d still forget to thank somebody, so I’d like to do this in a way that includes everyone.

So, my heartfelt love and gratitude goes out to all my lovely family and friends, not only for helping with the book itself, but for everything you did to make sure I was still here to write it. I’ll thank one person by name, my darling Alfie, for holding me, and our family, together during those dark, dark days, and for his constant encouragement to keep going with this book, when I really thought I could do no more. Please believe me; I know how lucky I am to have so many good people in my life, and you know I’ll never forget what you did for me when I needed it most.

Thank you all. You have my appreciation and my love, forever..

Christine Ball

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INTRODUCTION

REMEMBRANCE

It’s been thirteen long years since my life changed forever. Some thought I would never make it, and neither did I, for sure. When you hit the lowest point in your life and your world is shattered in a matter of seconds, you feel that no one on this earth could ever feel the pain and heartache like you are going through.

It is days like today, though, as a voice disturbs me from my deepest thoughts and asks, Are you okay? when I know that my life is worth living. I glance up and look at a handsome young man, who is driving. He has such a striking resemblance to another young man whom I had once sat beside and loved very much. It’s my grandson, Naylor, who is driving me today, and he looks at me, and smiles with the same shy smile as his dad. It’s uncanny how much he resembles my beautiful son, Naylor - even his voice and his laughter. If I close my eyes, sometimes it can make my hair stand up on the back of my neck. My heart feels like it could burst with pride and love for him, knowing how he has grown from a little boy who seemed so lost after losing his dad, and leaving his home to come and live with me and his granddad. At that time, he was feeling as messed up as me, and I’m looking at him today as a beautiful, strong, well-mannered young man, with so much going for him in life. This is what makes me want to live again. The poison that once ran through my veins is long gone; I am no longer lost, and I make the best of every day, along with my husband my beautiful daughter, Phyllis, my son, Alfie, and all my other grandchildren.

It’s a special day, today. It’s my son, Naylor’s birthday so my grandson and I are on our way to the cemetery to take flowers and meet the rest of the family. Today is a bit different, though, because instead of sitting at my son’s graveside all day, I decided to go somewhere that has always held a piece of my heart. Over the last 12 years, I have spent hours deep in thought with it on my mind; it’s a war memorial for the soldiers who never returned home. Me, my grandson, Naylor, and our good friend, Terry Doe, went along. It was a place that I wanted my grandson to visit as well.

As we pulled our car into the car park, I felt a thud in my heart, knowing that I was about to witness the loss of so many other mothers’ sons. I watched as Naylor carried a tribute of white roses that I’d brought to lay in remembrance of all the courageous young men and women, and it’s times like this that you know that you were never alone in your deepest time of grief and pain. I walked toward the entrance, and my heart was beating so fast. I felt an overwhelming love for every other mother who had lost their child, and my heart was broken for all those who didn’t return home.

I walked around looking at the hundreds of names on the walls, of all the brave young men and women who gave their lives for us so that we could be strong and free, and it made me feel that I had no right to dwell in self-pity for my own loss. As I looked around at all those names, it put my own life into perspective. How serene it felt to share their glory, and the power that they have left on this earth for us. I felt so strong walking around reading the names of all the loved ones who had sacrificed their lives for us and given us freedom. This is a place I will hold close in my heart, and one that I will visit when feeling low; it truly inspires the weakest mind to go forward and be strong, and it serves a lesson, even in grief, of a cherished loved one. You may suffer pain, but don’t give up on your loved one’s, family or friends, or your own life. I laid a tribute of white roses and said a silent prayer.

Every day is a blessing to me now, and my heart goes on. I want to live, and as my son, Naylor once said to me a week before I lost him, Live everyday like it’s your last. That’s what I try to do - to make every day of my life count. As I’ve said in the book, my husband and I are rich - not in money, but with our beautiful children and grandchildren, and life itself.

CHAPTER ONE

TIME STOOD STILL

It was Friday the eighth of August and my husband, Alfie, and I were up early that morning. It was so warm the sun was bright and we were sitting, drinking a cup of tea. I was in a bit of a rush because I had to pick my mum up from her house. She was suffering from cancer so I was taking her to hospital for treatment, and I felt better knowing it was nearly completed, but I was still waiting for my Naylor to call me.

Naylor is my middle son. I have three children; Alfie is the eldest, Phyllis is my only girl, and although Naylor was married with two young sons he always called in every day to see me to have a cup of tea and something to eat. I didn’t want to keep my mum waiting so I left home as planned and thought I would phone him later - I knew he would call in on his way home.

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I picked up my mum, but we had only got a few miles up the road when the phone rang. I said to my mum:

"That will be Naylor, so I put the phone on loudspeaker.

Where are you at, my old gel, he asked me.

I’m taking Nan to the hospital for her treatment, I told him.

I won’t call in if you’re not at home, he said. I’ll be-round later.

My mum joined in the conversation. Morning, Nay. How are you?

He told her he was fine but he was more interested in how she was feeling. I could hear in his voice that he was worried about her. He told his nan that he had a present for her. Mum’s voice was full of excitement; she was like a child.

What is it Nay? she said. Tell me, what is it?

He was laughing.

That cheered you up,he said, and then told her that he had a brooch for her. He told her it had different coloured stones in it. Mum said, thank you and he told her not to worry about her treatment, that she would be fine. He told her he would call in on the way home to see her and bring her the brooch. He told me he would see me later and then said luv ur and I said luv ur back. He never said goodbye on any phone calls to me.

After Mum’s hospital appointment, we had lunch. Mum was feeling tired so I took her home, and my sister and I got her into bed for a sleep. My husband and I had to go shopping that afternoon because we had a family wedding the next day, and I rang Naylor while I was out and we had a chat, as we did every day.

We carried on shopping and everything was going well. My phone rang and I knew it was Naylor before I looked at it. As I answered I heard him say, What are you doing, my old gel? I told him I’d had a long day but it wouldn’t be long before we finished our shopping. I asked him what he was up to and he told me he was on his way home and that he would only be about an hour. We chatted for awhile, he told me he would see me later then said, luv ur and I said, uv ur back, and we hung up. My husband and I had one more stop to make, at Shepherds Bush market. I remember how crowded it was on the streets, but we managed to park. As we were walking around, I stopped and was looking on a stall when I heard Alfie’s phone ring. I carried on looking and I heard Alfie speaking. His voice got louder and as I turned round and looked at him, I could see that his face was drained. My heart felt like it was going to stop as I