Today, nine years later, I haven't come to terms with his loss. With the pain still there and me nearly 60, I know I'm never going to. People must see me on the TV or in cabaret, laughing, singing, cracking gags, and imagine that time has healed the pain and the scars. If only they knew. My son is locked away - not forgotten, just hidden away in whatever part we keep our private grief. Otherwise I couldn't function.