I know I begged him to get better as he lay in that hospital and made lots of promises to him on the condition that he would just open his eyes. I truly would have given him anything he wanted.
I went home for the night at some point and was in bed when the phone rang early in the morning. I was told that the doctors had taken the decision to turn off Dom's life support machine, but they would wait until I got to the hospital until they did anything. Dom died on the 13th December 1996, shortly after I got to the hospital.
I found the times immediately after Dom died tough. I tortured myself with the 'why?' questions, that, of course, no-one could ever answer. I wished that it had been me instead and felt guilty that I was still alive - able to see, breathe, touch and feel. I got angry when people told me that time was a great healer - when would there ever be a day when I would not be dominated by thoughts of him? But through these difficult times I also had the hundreds of great memories to draw upon. They put a smile on my face as did the comforting thought that his 22 years were filled with fun and laughter.
I have had periods of immense lows since Dom's death and times when it felt like the dark cloud I had inside was just eating me up. I have survived the loss and become stronger due to some fortuitous good luck but mostly due to the ongoing, unconditional, love of my wonderful parents. I am immensely lucky to have them and even more so that they have always let me go off and do my own thing, even though I imagine the need to wrap me up in cotton wool was overwhelming.