His wife, Jan, reaches inside and pulls out a sky blue child’s blanket. She holds it near to her face, shuts her eyes, and takes a deep breath.
“It still smells like him,” she whispers gently.
“This is the blanket he was wrapped in when he died.”
Their son, Colin, was just seven years old when he died in January 1990. Hepatitis C and AIDS devastated his little body.
The suitcase, much like the one most families used to own in the 1980s, is just big enough to store everything.
Next to the blanket are his favourite toys, including a snow globe and a collection of his artwork.
