Saving lives after losing his own

As my son Jamie, then 16, stood on top of the Empire State Building I felt a surge of joy. He looked like a child on Christmas morning, his excited gaze fixed on the New York skyline.

It was February 2020 and together with my partner Jem, then 44, we had taken Jamie and his brother Callum, then 19, to New York. Like most people we had enjoyed all the usual tourist sights, like Central Park, the Statue of Liberty and Bloomingdale’s department store.

But this view had captured Jamie’s heart and as I took a step towards him he turned and smiled. ‘This is brilliant, Mum. Can we come back?’

I laughed. ‘Of course, but you might not want your old mum tagging along with you next time.’

Towering over me, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. ‘I’ll always want you around, Mum.’

This was typical Jamie. He had always been thoughtful and gentle and wasn’t embarrassed to admit how much he loved his mum. He’d even proved how wonderful he was when he signed up to the organ donor registry.

‘Are you sure about this?’ I had asked, spotting the online form on his laptop. Naturally, I was proud that Jamie was putting others first, but I’d wanted to ensure my son fully understood what giving away his organs meant.

Jamie had nodded, his face fixed on the screen. ‘If anything were to happen to me, I’d like my body to save people’s lives.’

Yet the idea of a life without Jamie was just unfathomable and I never for a second thought it would actually happen.

Jamie had dreams of becoming a plumber, planning to start his own business with two friends when they graduated college in 2022. As a family, we were all so happy, enjoying life in our perfect bubble – and this trip to New York really had been magical for us all.

Then in December 2021, Jem told the boys that he was taking me to Canada at New Year.

‘To celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary,’ Jem announced.

‘Without us?’ Jamie, then 18, gasped, pretending to be upset.

Jem and I chuckled. We knew the children would be fine alone, especially as Gavin, the boys’ father, would keep an eye on them while we were away. Despite our divorce, Gavin was a good friend and a vital part of the family.

‘You don’t want us cramping your style,’ I teased. ‘Have you got any New Year plans?’

‘Watching a firework display with mates,’ Jamie replied.

As Jem and I celebrated with a glass of fizz in Niagara Falls on New Year’s Eve, I couldn’t help feeling how lucky I was.