Walk a mile in his shoes. Packing up to move on again, and I take these shoes with me everywhere I go, and a pair of his dirty socks wrapped in plastic to keep his smell in them.
One thing I am grateful for is that I never stopped telling Luke how much I loved him. I would say "I love you more than anything in the world, forever and ever Lukey", and he knew what I meant, because he loved me that much too. I must have said it to him twenty times a day.
Lukey didn't deserve to be dragged off screaming, then moved to twelve different foster homes in six months, until his head was finally smashed in and he was left to die at the age of two! And now I have to listen to them repeatedly, even at his inquest, telling me how well they looked after him, what a good job they did....
When I first walked into the hospital, the "reunification" bitch was there surrounded by police. It had happened the day before, Luke was left with a fractured skull and wasn't checked until I rang a second time six hours after his 74 year old foster carer told me "He's banged his head and gone to bed."
I begged her to check on him there and then. As soon as I got off the phone I rang docs Qld complaints who told me to ring the manager of Cairns North DoCS Pat Anderson, straight away. She wouldn't answer my calls.
I rang my visit supervisor, the commission for children, I tried and tried, until all I could do was sit in the corner and cry and cry and cry. I had a dream a couple of days before that Luke was in a little boat drifting out to sea, and I was standing on the shore watching him, there was nothing I could do. He was screaming to me, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"
So the reunification bitch is surrounded by police and I said to her straight away, "I told you to get him out of that house."
All she could come back with was "You're raising your voice."
I said "Yeh, I get angry, I raise my voice. You get angry and you take people's kids off them."
The police looked away in agreement.
I had waited months for a meeting with that bitch, and had it 3 days before Luke's "Accident". I asked for longer unsupervised visits, and a few other things, but at the top of the list was "GET HIM OUT OF THAT HOUSE."
The day before at his visit he had huge scratches on his face. The next day at his mom's visit she found a scratch on his penis so bad it had to be seen to by a doctor. He was injured every time I saw him, severe burns and bruising. He was with a 74 year old foster carer who had four other children. I said to them at that meeting, "He is the size of a four year old but he is only a baby, the other kids are gonna bully him." The foster carer had been reported before for letting the kids bully the younger foster children, another thing I didn't know. She had many complaints lodged against her.
So I walked into intensive care and there was my little perfect angel, everything I lived for, in a coma. I said to him, "Lukey, Daddy's here."
Even though he was in a coma, tears started to roll down his cheeks. He knew I was there. I stayed by his side the whole six days he was there, singing to him, talking to him, so he knew his daddy was there and he was not alone. I did not want Lukey to die alone.
After three days, he was still relying on a machine to breathe for him, and they told me they were gonna turn off his life support. I walked in there and for the first time ever I yelled at my Lukey Pookey. I told him, "Breathe Lukey, Breathe. Breathe in...... Breathe out....' and I breathed in and out really loudly so that he could hear it.
Low and behold, my little champion started breathing for the first time since he was in the hospital. I was so happy, I knew he could hear me the whole time, but no one knew for sure because he was in a coma.
So there was hope, and they dismissed their plans to turn off Luke's life support. He breathed mostly on his own all that night until the next morning. But Lukey's brain was dying. He had been left for six hours with a fractured skull and bleeding on the brain which swelled and starved his brain of oxygen, the coroner would not acknowledge any of this. A blatant cover up of the negligence which caused the death of a baby, my baby.
So as Luke's brain died off in sections, he would lose control of each of his organs one by one. I asked if I could sleep with him and hold him through the night and they let me. When I woke up in the morning Luke had no reflexes at all left, it was like he had died in my arms during the night, only the machines were keeping him going.
I wouldn't get out of bed. It was 11 o'clock when the nurse came to get me. She told me the doctor wanted to see me. I told her I knew what it was about and I didn't want to go.
The doctor cried when he told us it was all over for Lukey. I begged them. I said I didn't care if he was a vegetable or in a coma, I would look after him and watch over him for the rest of my life. If they wanted to do experimental surgery, take my brain, anything, don't let my boy die.
They said they would leave him on life support until 10am the next morning. I asked if Luke's mother could sleep with him until midnight and I could lay with him until it was time to go, it was agreed.
Midnight came and the nurses came to get me. I told them to leave Luke with his mother, I just wanted him in my arms when they turned the machines off, it was like he had died in my arms the night before anyway. A sick child wants to be in his mothers arms, but I am sure a boy would die in his father's arms should he have a choice.
So Lukey's family all gathered round the next morning, they left it til 11Am so I could have more time with him, then they started to unplug everything. Lukey's heart kept going even after everything was unplugged, my little champion had a heart like a horse.
Then when I couldn't feel his little heart beating anymore, I took him into a room and laid him on the table, he was terrible to look at after having been such a beautiful child. Then all of a sudden I felt him come into my heart, and he was so happy, and he was saying to me, "I love you too Daddy, I love you too", over and over. I said I love you too Lukey Pookey so much, now you go with the angels now bubba, you go to God, he will look after you.
At Luke's funeral, I started off by playing Puff the Magic Dragon on the church piano as I sang it, it was our favourite song.
I thanked Lukey for giving me so many things, more than I had ever known in my life my Lukey gave me. Then when we all gathered around his coffin, I told everyone to lift him up on our shoulders and carry him out, because he is a champion and should be carried out like one.
Take a walk in Lukey's shoes, and then tell me your child protection system is working. You are desecrating families, children's lives, parents, making them give their whole life earnings, their children's inheritiance to solicitors, in your sick game where you get unlimited legal funding, fake psych reports, and you make any false allegations you choose without and proof needed, and then you hold no accountability when your have ruined these kids for life.
So Lukey never got a sorry, and after all the sorries, which are still dribbling out, I see no change, I see corruption openly flaunted by vindictive hateful managers of child protection and their minions, the reunification bitches and nasty caseworkers who gleefully take out personal vendettas on an decent parent who fights for what they love most in the world, their children.
And the politicians, the media, the DoCS workers who witness the corruption and say nothing. Just as guilty. You are all going straight to hell.