I'll never get over this grief

Louise Bates, 60, found a unique way to deal with the darkness after losing her son to cancer

- BESS BROWNING

Sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop, my son Matthew stared at the screen. It was 2016 and, as he began to type, I wished desperately that I could swap places with him, to be the one writing this surreal statement. When Matthew beckoned me and his dad, Bill, over, I read the words on the screen and could no longer stifle my cries. It said: ‘I’m a pretty average 27-year-old, except for one thing – I’ve been diagnosed with stage-four cancer.’

Three years earlier, you wouldn’t have imagined a young man like Matthew could ever be ill. Flying through the front door in his bright-blue Coventry City kit, he would be oblivious to my presence as he indulged in full-flow football chatter with Bill. With their theatrical hand gestures and the occasional whoop, I could always tell when it had been a good result.

My boys had been season-ticket holders since Matthew was a kid, and their regular visits to the stadium cemented a close bond between them. But Matthew, talented in everything he turned his hand to, wasn’t just into football. He loved golf and played cricket regularly – even having trials for Warwickshire. And when he wasn’t playing sport, he was strumming his guitar and writing songs, another of the varied passions he shared with his father.

With his catalogue of interests, Matthew grew into a young man who would make conversation with anyone he met. So, it seemed a natural path for Matthew to go into journalism. When I’d waved goodbye as he drove off to Brighton University, in 2007, my heart ached. Our daughter Sarah, then 21, had already moved out, and me and Bill, 49, became empty nesters overnight. ‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ Matthew told me.

Getting a diagnosis