"FAT JEWELS", le fils qui n'a pu aller au bout de ses rêves.

In Memory of F.J



"To be faithful to those which died, it is to live as they would have lived. And to make them live with us. And to transmit their face, their voice, their message, with the others. With a son, with a sister, a brother, the unknown ones, with the others. And the life truncated of disappeared, then, will germinate without end ".


                                                                Martin Gray in "The book of the Life"



This blog would not exist if he had not died in 26 years of a cancer on October 24, 2005.


Fifteen months between hope and despair.


Accepting the disease without giving up fighting it, he died in peace, detached from his body.


He was an attentive grandson, a son "tender years and wood head", a big brother protective and submerging, a dad "hen", a passion lover, and for his friends, humanistic.


This blog is thus before a whole homage so that it was.

It liked too the life so that I am satisfied with a requiem.

Informed epicurean, it had, between others, the sense of humour and derision.


He was rare, it became exceptional.


His death caused me of the pain and the regret. Then in the course of the months, I refrained to feel sorry for my fate. To help me, I became attached in me to to remember all that he gave and so I keep him present in my acts, in my way of thinking, in my quite my being, and as they say, you should not be sad to have lost him but to be delighted to have known him.

This  strategy of the reason controls emotional one devastating. It allows me as time goes by to accept the physical absence to be slowly connected to him only by the presence of his spiritual dimension.

Nevertheless, I still roar silently and to cry during my sleep... The unconscious does not make sorting and indicates you the night, as a barometer measures the pressure of the air, the state of your mental! But Time, Time, Timeeeeeeeeee!!!





N.B: It wanted that I invest myself for the young people in soccer, one of my passions.



 All its "pals", with all its brothers: [ rappers'song for Nico ]

I benefit from it to thank you for all your attentions and your assistance.

I admired your courage to face the inescapable one, it was necessary some to deal with the fear, the true one, but you did not give up you returned to accompany it, us to accompany. I saw men being born in front of the unknown; Nicolas gave us the Force to accept the unacceptable one and you by your presence, your love, your sorrow, your compassion, you succeeded all together so that it leaves in peace. Thank you.











 Nicolas, she is my son.

Died? not, present for me.

Absent of my everyday life, but how much present in my life interior, richer than ever.

Nicolas, like my two daughters, form integral part of this life which does not have borders.

The love is thus, without borders: why death remove would this possibility of liking it to be disappeared?

The true love is unconditional, it does not require anything in return

and in this case, it appears infinite and universal.

That, I strongly feel it as Nicolas had included/understood quite front me.

A few days before his death, Nicolas wished that I relay his message: "mom, say their that the prejudices should not be any more". 

It wished to leave these close relations, this way of seeing and of liking the others. Way which it always adopted during its short life.

The love was its engine.

I think that its end of lifetime clarified and supported its entourage.

The physical suffering had disappeared, leaving place with serenity.

The pump with morphine was not useful any more and one kind of super-conscience was there.

Nicolas remained at the house, as it wished, in palliative care during several weeks. Physical exchanges, verbal toilets, massages, exchanges, memories and forgiveness.

What to say?

Force, dignity and love.

Thank you Nicolas to have given us the possibility of living these exchanges which helped me and which still help me to accept your death.

I would like to render comprehensible with others that the fear of death is frightening, much more frightening than death itself.

To accompany a expensive being in these moments should remain a natural act of love.

Why looking after them, the authorities are not attacked they to make recognize death like an obliged passage, and not degrading that it is necessary to hide like countering reality?

Why this fear?

Why so much of sick beings only die, without their close relations at their sides?

I do not manage to include/understand.

What a surface education we had! What a selfishness! What a lack of opening!

Let us look at! let us open the eyes!

Why refuse to see the inescapable one?

Yes, death exists, yes, to lose somebody of close relation makes suffer, yes, yes. But when the ravaged body was cherished, when one attenuated the physical and moral suffering by the presence, when love mutually was given, the pain changes. Changes by the belief which this love will remain until our clean dead.

Is this that the eternal life? I do not know anything of it.

What I know, it is which if I had not accompanied Nicolas until his last sigh, I could not have had this belief which helps me to live my life.







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