| |
This memorial website was created in the memory of our darling little boy, Buster who was born in United Kingdom on September 06, 2003 and passed away on November 27, 2004 at the age of 14 months. We will remember him forever.
He was an extremely cheerful little boy who had a twinkle in his eye and attracted many friends. He loved his food and his milk and was always in the upper 95th percentile on the growth charts, from the day he was born til the day he died.
He liked reading his books, playing in his tent that Ella (and her mum Sally) bought for his 1st birthday, hiding his lego pieces (that Auntie Dr Cathy bought for him) under the couch so daddy couldn't find them, stacking his coloured rings, watching Noddy while mummy sang the theme tune (we didn't usually watch the whole programme - but we liked the song at the beginning!), eating grapes, bananas, apples, raisins, rice crackers (anything really!), climbing up the stairs, watching the rubbish man collect the rubbish (rubbie! he would say), sitting on daddy's shoulders and dribbling on his bald head, going for a ride on the back of daddy's bike, being tickled, going out for lunch with mummy and daddy and charming the waiting staff (and eating half of mummy's lunch for her!), to name but a few.
He died tragically after a common cold turned into pneumonia that went undiagnosed by the hospital caused him to have a cardiac arrest at 5pm, on Saturday 27th November, 2004. His mummy was holding him in her arms at the time he went.
Poem for Buster's birthday: 06/09/06
Please remember that today is a special birthday.
Help them understand that the memories don't go away.
Bless them with ears to hear and hearts that care.
Enable them to listen while I share.
Shelter them, that they may never know my pain.
Help them to help me know that my child's life was not in vain.
Help them to understand that I wish my child were here so we could celebrate,
..to understand that I still feel the nearness of my child,
..to see beyond my smile and the words, "I'm okay,"
Please let just one remember today is a special birthday!
|
Click here to see Buster Neale's Family Tree |
 Tributes and Condolences |
|
|
 |
|
|
hello little one / Wendy BONELLA (mummys friend )
hello buster just thought id leave you a little message for you and your mummy.hope u and my baba darren have found eah other and are having lots of fun with all your little angel friends i know your mummy misses you with all her heart just like i do...
 Continue >>
|
|
|
|
|
|
So Very Sorry for Your Loss / Melissa Eiler (Visitor~Daughter of Irwin & Renee Eiler )
|
|
|
|
|
|
Silly faces. / Gazza Joshua's Daddy
Just let me sit here for a while, while I fight back the tears, put away the pain and blow out my fear's. Just let me sit here with Buster if I may and giggle and roll around making silly faces while he sits on Mummys lap pulling Daddys nos...
Continue >>
|
|
|
|
|
|
Have you been a good boy? xx / Natalie &. Nick (Madison's Mummy &. Daddy) (Tcf)
Hey Buster,Not long now til Santa flies over the trees and rooftops in his sleigh. Did you write him a letter? Hope he brings you something extra special.Keep sending lots of hugs and kisses to your Mummy and Daddy they miss you very much...
Continue >>
|
|
|
|
|
|
For those that love and miss Buster xx / Georgina -. Tcf -. Holly Clarke Mum
There's a precious choir of angels With the lord in heavens sky And a special song they're singing Dear loved ones please don't cry Remember all the good times And the joy that was given to you Dear loved ones please p...
Continue >>
|
|
|
|
|
|
How he shines. / Gary (Gazza) Joshuas Daddy Read >> |
|
|
|
|
|
to Grere and Steve / Davina Robertson (TCF) Read >> |
|
|
|
|
|
Happy Birthday Buster / Diane/ Mom To Angel Jimmy Brozzetti Read >> |
|
|
|
|
|
Happy Birthday Buster XXX / Natalie &. Nick (Madison's Mummy &. Daddy) (Tcf) Read >> |
|
|
|
|
|
Thinking of you / Becki Billie's Mummy Read >> |
|
|
|
|
|
Happy 3rd Birthday Buster / Georgina-tcf Hollys Mum Read >> |
|
|
|
|
|
Poem..... / Funda Read >> |
|
|
|
|
|
Happy Easter to your family!! / Jody Johnson (None,Mom to angel-Mason Bailey Johnson ) Read >> |
|
|
|
|
|
Especially for Buster x / Natalie &. Nick (Madison's Mummy &. Daddy) (Tcf) Read >> |
|
|
|
|
|
Christmas x / Natalie &. Nick (Madison's Mummy &. Daddy) (Tcf) Read >> |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| His legacy |
|
|
|
|
A Set of Snapshots: by Buster's Dad and some Friends
Life & Death (Buster's Dad)
I remember the night that my son was born - well the morning, 4am to be precise. 4am, Saturday the sixth of September 2003. I remember it like it was yesterday, yet it is but a dim and blurred vision from my distant past.
I remember the lights yesterday, last year, so long, long ago. We were in delivery suite at a grossly over populated, dirty, under-staffed East London Hospital. The whole room was yellow, yellow, yellow. Following a 24 hour labour, my dear wife – almost at the end of her strength, the doctor (only just in control of herself and her staff) saying ‘…we’ll give it one last try – I’ll help with the forceps, before we do a caesarean – now push Grere, push…’ Tension. Yellow.
And there he was, weird, wet, alien, ours. Our dear sweet boy brought into this strange place. A yellow place.
I remember holding my child - my only child, my beautiful, 14 month old, apple of my eye, star dancer, child whom I love, child who died in the arms of his dear mother at another grossly over populated, dirty, under-staffed East London Hospital in November 2004. I remember weeping for the wasted life, in anger at the stupid medical profession who allowed him to die of a cold, of neglect, in this day and age - the age of man-made, scientific miracle. The age of intelligent, rational man thought. Roll on the age of Wisdom, when we can reflect back on the woeful stupidity of human kind and attribute it to the arrogance of adolescence. I remember it now, 11 months later, like it was yesterday, a dim and blurred vision from my distant past.
In my memory my child is playful. He smiles and tries to scratch my eye out. And I laugh back, as I cry at the memory. I lift him onto my shoulders and we head off somewhere, on some new adventure, my child beating my head like a war-drum and curiously laughing at/scared of the dogs next door - 'the Boo Woos' who lay there dozing in the sun until the next unsuspecting stranger-victim happens by. The wolves lurk, the baby laughs and the daddy cries bitter tears of hopeless longing.
Bath (Buster's Dad)
I remember my little boy in the bath, splashing and laughing. He has a rubber duckie, he has a bouncing, smiling ball and he has plastic floating shape things. But his favourite bath toy by far is a plastic liquid-soap dispenser. We can fill that dispenser up with warm bath water and squirt it like a water pistol onto my little boys’ belly, laughing like mad men and falling back into the water.
Rememberance of Buster - (in France - Rosalind Wenham, a friend of Buster's)
My best memory of Buster is that when Buster and I went to France for a holiday I helped feed and look after him and he made me laugh!
I have a little smiling ball that was his to remember him.
Rosalind age:10
Game (Buster's Dad)
My little boy loved a laugh and a bit of a game. One of his favourites was ‘make daddy find stuff’ – a kind of hide and seek variation. I’d build him a sort of Eagle / totem pole thing out of maybe twelve bits of his lego. He’d laugh and grab the model and wonder off busting it up as he went. Sometimes I’d start my part of the game five-minutes later, sometimes when I got home from work later in the day, but my part was to find the bits and rebuild the Eagle. Only there was always one bit that he managed to hide really creatively. Somehow he’d get the piece in some bizarre place, like in one of my shoes, or under my desk, in the kitchen, or down the hall, even when he’d never been out of his play-pen / nursery – sometimes it would take me days to complete the Eagle and I’d leave it out of his reach until I had, but I’ll never know how he managed it, or how he knew to do it… Somehow he just did.
I loved my puzzle and he loved confusing his daddy.
Sparkle (Buster's Dad)
I remember the sparkle in my little boys’ eye. That glint that let us know how much he loved us, how he loved to be here, how curious he was to know all that the world had to offer, how anxious he was to know each and every one of us and how at ease he was within himself and in his place in the world.
That glint will forever cut my heart to shreds like a razor, for how could it be that a little boy who loved so much, with so much zest for life, for you and for me, suddenly then depart like that? How can that possibly be? Did God (whoever s/he may be) leave us?
The shiny eyed, grinning and gurgling little boy, freewheeling down the high street, befriended everybody. He had attracted a larger group of friends than both his mum and I put together. And every one of them at the funeral could relate to what Janet said about the little boy, ‘the Prince of the Pushchair, holding court amongst the local retailers, making jolly in the local café (Jolly’s), currying favour at the Empress (local Indian restaurant) and providing a soothing balm at Anthony’s (the local pharmacy)’. Somehow he radiated his interest in people, his sense of humour, like a little beacon. He projected it out and drew his people in. They couldn’t help but sqidge a podgy cheek, or pull a face that they would reveal to none but him, they’d laugh at his private jokes, no matter what the joke might be.
I feel privileged to have seen the love that my little boy brought and I hold that sparkle inside of me. Within my heart of hearts I will treasure the energy that he allowed me to share and that’s the love that I share with you now.
Leo (Buster's Dad)
My little boy loved books. He had a ‘lift the flap’ book called ‘Where’s Spot?’ where the mama dog (Sally) is looking for her pup (Spot), who’s late for dinner… ‘is he behind the door?’ (lift the flap that’s the door) ‘No’ – says a giant bear, who just happens to be lurking there, large paw dipping into a jar of succulent, yellow honey. And the same on each page – a giant Boa Constrictor Snake inside the Grandfather Clock ‘No’, a Hippopotamus ‘No’ – complete with little bird on her head ('No') inside the Concert Piano... Each time we lifted a flap Buster would say ‘Noooooo’ (drawn out, pitch raising at the end of the word every time)… Except when it came to Sally, looking behind the door to the cupboard under the stairs which, when opened, revealed a big Lion to which Buster would say ‘DADDY!’ – somehow he’d decided (without any prompt) that the Lion was daddy, which (as a Leo), I most certainly am.
But how did my little boy know that? All we’ll ever know is that that was one of those spontaneously beautiful things about our dear son. Somehow he knew that the lion was daddy, almost like he wanted to let us know that he knew way more than we did and he just wanted to remind us of that… Just to keep the humour going.
…Incidentally the Lion said ‘no’ too. But a Tortoise (hiding under a mat) eventually whispered ‘try the basket’ to Sally, which she duly did, finding Spot and promptly escorting him to his dinner bowl!
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
| |
| Buster's Photo Album |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Add to favorites 
