You’re missing the Magners League final this weekend, and the Champions League final … but maybe you’d have gone to the Kings of Leon in Slane … some of your friends are going, and they wish you were too … I know what a great time you had when you saw them at Oxegen, and you texted your mum to say you could die happy … I found our old Because of the Times CD the other day … great to hear it again; it was like you were in the car beside me … also some of your old compilations … amused to find ‘The Big Strong Man’ along with serious stuff … I remember when we used to shout it out on car journeys when you and Susi were small.
We found an essay you wrote on Othello as well … we remember how much you enjoyed Othello. Your teacher wrote ‘Lovely opening’ and ‘Style of writing is very impressive and you make many many great points’. You were always very good at anything you liked. You were so talented.
We’re enjoying our lives, but still missing you badly and thinking about you all the time. It’s a dull ache that never goes away, and never will.
We didn’t know before you went how many people loved you, and how many people’s lives you brightened – people of all ages. Now we know, because they tell us, and they leave messages online to say so. There was nobody like you, Sean.
I played pool with some of your friends in the pub last weekend, when we were celebrating Clio’s birthday … I beat Gary 2–1 at the end of the night. The women were talking about how charming you were. I remembered playing pool with you there on your 18th birthday – just the two of us.
But maybe I don’t have to tell you any of this, Sean. Maybe you know it all already. I really hope so. I often feel that you are here with us.
Love you always and for ever.