‘We offer families a hand to hold’
Through the darkness of grief, Nicola Graham has found light and hope by supporting other families in tragic situations
Our son Reuben came into the world in September 2010. He was the younger brother to our first child, Isaac, then nearly three. As my husband Mike and I held our new son, we could not have been happier.
Reuben grew into a smiley, cheeky and very loving little boy. He loved his food, and liked nothing better than eating handfuls of cake. Isaac adored him. Both Mike and I worked in the travel industry, so we took the boys on lots of holidays, making memories to cherish for ever.
In July 2012, we’d planned a camping break in Devon, but Reuben became unwell. He’d be sickly in the morning, yet recover and be his usual lively self by the afternoon. The doctor thought he had a virus. As our trip was in the UK, we decided we’d still all go.
Despite his illness, Reuben had the time of his life in Devon. He was chatting away, high-fiving Isaac and his cousins, playing in the ball pool and panning for gold. He went to bed in the tent, singing to himself. I remember telling him to go to sleep, and him just laughing.
The next day, we were at our friends’ house and Reuben fell over. It was nothing serious – the kind of tumble all children have. Yet afterwards, he suddenly became very unwell. He was sick, listless and sleepy. Increasingly worried, we took him to A&E. By that afternoon, he was on the high-dependency unit, in and out of consciousness. The CT scan showed a suspected brain tumour. It was devastating.
After that, everything happened very quickly. Reuben was transferred to the neurological unit at Frenchay Hospital in Bristol by air ambulance, where he underwent hours of surgery to relieve the pressure on his brain. Tragically, however, his organs began to fail. On 21 August 2012, Reuben passed away in my arms.
Our family was in turmoil. We drove
Knowing we’re helping others brings me comfort
home from the hospital with a quarter of our family missing. I remember looking at Isaac asleep in the back of the car and feeling utter grief. But there was one thought that kept me going – I was determined to make Reuben’s short life count, to create a legacy for him. As it turned out, this tiny flickering ray of hope was the beginning of something truly special. It was the start of Reuben’s Retreat.
Two days after Reuben died, we opened a fundraising page. We decided to create a home away from home for children with life-limiting and life-threatening illnesses and their families, and for families who had lost a child. I wanted to take that ugly feeling of loss and turn it into something positive. We wanted to raise a million pounds in 23 months – the age Reuben was when he passed.
By July 2014, we’d raised our first million and bought the charity’s forever home, a beautiful old hospital in the Peak District. We’ve supported hundreds of families by providing counselling, support groups, activity days and short breaks. The renovation is ongoing, and the more we fundraise, the more work we are able to do.
Isaac talks about Reuben every day. We’ll never forget our boy, but knowing we’re helping others brings me warmth and comfort. Love is a powerful thing.