In June 2010, almost a year after the attack that left Nick battling severe disabilities, my sons went to Spain. To a hardcore music festival. Nick had been on the way to a local hardcore venue when the attack happened, and it was that community who had closed ranks around ‘one of their own’ and supported him with messages and music through those first months.

Every time I managed to get online another hardcore music site would have a page full if messages for Nick. Every time Aimee came to see him, there would be another personalised CD from DJ’s like Gammer and Kato and so many others! Almost all had personal messages, some had dreadful jokes.. but all had the music Nick loved.

I have to say I had mixed feelings about the holiday. It had been incredibly hard to come up with the money to pay for it. And ok, let’s be honest.. I was scared stiff and panicking! I had been with Nick every day for a year and knew how difficult things were for him, knew what was involved in looking after him and helping him look after himself.

I knew too how far he still needed to come back. Although his mind was clear enough and the intellect all there, things were still ‘not right’ in an almost indefinable way.

Then there was the wheelchair and all the problems that would bring.

But hey, I’m just his Mum, I’m supposed to worry.. and they are my sons and supposed to prove me wrong.

And they did.

I don’t know half on what they got up to over there, which is probably just as well. I saw pictures of many things that should have been impossible, and the twin gods of Health and Safety would undoubtedly have had a fit.But Nick was welcomed into the Hardcore family and had a wonderful time. He met some of the DJ’s who had so kindly sent recordings, he met friends he hadn’t known he had.

I sat at home biting my fingernails to the bone, of course 🙂 and taking it out on the housework and decorating we could get done without Nick there.

It was a double edged sword, of course, because although Nick had a wonderful holiday, it threw into sharp relief all the things he could no longer do or enjoy. It was his first real foray into the outside world, and at that time he was very dependent on help. It was here, I think, he first became really aware of how much his life had changed and where his self confidence began to waver.

It is one thing to be surrounded by friends as he was then, with a mind still sort of fuzzy round the edges, quite another to face every morning in the cold light of day with perceptions needle sharp.

But he continues gallantly, stretching himself, away from friends and family, finding out who he is and who he can be, rather than who he used to be.