Stanley Thomas Jobling ("Stan") was amazing. He died because of Meningitis B. On Monday 14th January Stan was diagnosed with Meningococcal septicemia. He put up an incredible fight to get through the first few hours, then a day, then a week, but the strenght of the disease was too much; it had done its damage. Stan was a strong and healthy boy. He was taken from us on Sunday 27th January. It's impossible to describe how much we miss him. This is just one the many ways in which Stan continues to be remembered. Thank you for visiting the site. If you want to make a donation to fight Meningitis and the devastation it causes to children and their families you can do so through Stan's Tribute Fund. About STAN ..... Stan was amazing. He was ahead of the game. He was big and strong and he didn’t stop. Sleeping wasn’t a pastime he enjoyed. He deprived us of sleep; he didn’t seem to need it, he was happy from the first moment he woke up. “It’s getting up time”, and the playing would start, often with a large thud as he landed on Mum or Dad’s head. He drove Mum and Dad; he gave so much energy. He had character, enough to share around. He was strong willed, which shouldn’t really be surprising, having his Mummy to guide him. He was fun. We had fun as a family. We have so many memories of good fun times. He had a great life. We gave him love. He loved us back ten times over. He loved his family so much. He loved a “huggle”, the perfect mix between a hug and cuddle. He gave the best family strangle. He would put one arm around Mum’s neck and the other around Dad’s and squeeze with all his might, laughing until they would submit. That was Stan. The rougher the better. Through the thirteen days in hospital, we willed him back for those hugs and kisses. I think he heard and I think he fought for that. He loved us, he loved life, he loved pretty much everything. He loved his “Dardet”, his big sister Scarlet. “S’s” where the next big thing for him to conquer - he would have done it by now. He loved it when she threw him around the room, the rougher the better. He loved to balance on her feet like he was flying – he would squeal with laughter. He loved all his family and there are quite a few. He loved his best friend Jude, or as he sometime said, my brother Jude. He loved his toys; he was fanatical. He would wake up in the night, shout Diamondhead and go straight back to sleep. He even dreamed fun. He loved his food, smoked salmon, olives, strawberries, and chocolate, and the odd stolen sip of red wine. He had his mummy’s expensive tastes. He loved the park, but he dictated which one he would go to. He loved swimming. He loved his holiday house. He loved painting He loved the colour red. He loved to go to his playgroup. He loved hide and seek, at Granny and Granda’s house in Ireland, at his Nanny and Pops in the play room, and at home. He loved it but wasn’t very good at it, for wherever he hid, you could hear him giggle. He would call out Daddy, Granny or whoever it was he had conned into playing with him. He just couldn’t wait to be found. He loved helping. He loved stories. “Just one more”. Made up stories were best; unwritten stories that we had to retell in the same way over and over. He knew nothing of the bad things in the world, other than the scary giants from the BFG. He did have short phase where he would say he hated things. That soon turned round. He was taught that “Hate” was bad word, and from that point on, anyone using the “hate” word would be corrected. “That’s a bad word”, he would say. Sorry Stan, I’ll not say it again. Stan was a joker…I’m only joking with you, he’d say, or “you’re only joking me”. He laughed all the time. He was addicted to it. “Tickle me Dardet”. “Just one more time”. We laughed. He made his grumpy Daddy laugh; “Don’t be a "drumpy old crab”, he’d say. He could make everyone laugh. It was like it was his mission in life. That can’t and won’t be forgotten. There are so many stories; We could talk about them for a very long time. The stories don’t stop here. Life revolved around Stan. He was perfect. Stan’s gone now but he was here for 3 years, 3 very special years. It was as if he had a mission – it was meant to be like this - he was here for the short time to bless us, to makes us laugh, to make us love – to make life better. We had the best times with Stan. We wouldn’t swap the time we had for anything in the universe. Perhaps one day we’ll be together again. For now we live on with him in memory.