Victim impact statement of Cindy Gambino

"There is no exact word for the - word for word way of describing anything of how I feel as a result of losing my three beautiful boys. But I will attempt to at least give as best explanation as possible.

To begin with, I'm not even typing this, since Steve, my fiancee, Stephen Moules is, and I'm just telling him what to type. As a mother of three beautiful boys I had a routine every morning which would see all three boys showered, dressed, fed, lunches made, and off out the door by 8.30 a.m., to either school or occasional care and all done with the absolute ease of mind and emotion.

Ever since losing my boys I can't given get out of bed by 8.30 a.m. let alone look after any children. It instantly became a feeling of worthlessness as though I had not even had my children at all giving me no purpose or drive to even function on a daily basis.

Some days are worse than others, although every day is filled with the regime of medications of which to even begin to function I start every day with a handful of pills. Prior to losing my boys I rarely even took a Panadol. I am scattered in thought most of the time. I'm agitated to the point of sheer despair most of the time. And I have the tolerance of a black snake that has not eaten for six months.

Prior to losing my boys my thought processes were methodical down to the letter. I was always laid back and relaxed and I had the patience of a saint. For five years now, instead of tending to my three boys, I've had to visit a grave site of which I loathe to visit but it is my only physical connection I have with them.

At times I have even found myself sleeping on a blanket next to them as sometimes it is the only way to find peace of mind. I sit there and talk to them, ask them for answers as to what really happened that night and sometimes even ask them advice on what to do or which way to go next.

Once upon a time it was me who gave that sort of advice to all of those around me. When I met Stephen I would regularly cook a gourmet meal for eight people once again with absolute ease but since losing my boys I can honestly count the amount of times I've cooked on both hands. Housework, I'm lucky to pick up a broom or a vacuum once a week. I don't dust. The only things I can manage to do, and that is rarely, are bathe my two new sons, Hezekiah and Isaiah, occasionally feed them and do clothes washing and folding, as we have so much washing I feel guilty leaving it all up to Stephen.

By the way, quite obviously Stephen is all of our full time carer and all of the tasks that I have mentioned I either struggle to do or don't do, Stephen does on a daily basis. I used to be so proud of my everything. Now I can't even keep my anything maintained or cleaned on a regular basis as not only do I feel no purpose or drive but I become exhausted even after, after even having a shower. I used to shower every day and now I shower only when I really have to.

Considering my life now consists of regular psychiatrists' appointments, regular GP appointments and regular counselling appointments I suppose my showering is still quite frequent. I turn - I used to visit my friends almost on a daily basis but now it is down to what friends as I have become in the too hard basket category for them. After all how many children lose all of their children in one foul swoop.

Rob always used to say that I should be married to Danielle Steele, an author, because I was always reading her books. Now not only do I neither read nor comprehend what I'm looking at, but if I have to read something I now have to wear reading glasses which I had never worn in my life prior to losing my boys.

That is an outline of the physical issues that I now face on a daily basis, now for the emotional. Okay, where do I begin? While I used to be a very caring loving mother and person, I have now become hard, harsh. I find it difficult to give love to anybody including Stephen, our children and my extended family. I have no time any more for reason.

Everything has become only black and white to me, no longer are there grey areas. I have no or little trust in anybody except for a very select few and of course God who has brought me through all of this. I am no longer an independent person, rather I am not only dependent on medication but also on Stephen and others around me. For years I begged Rob to see me or at least talk to me and he wouldn't. Consequently it turned me inside out. The not knowing what really happened and even when he had the chance he came out with no real truth as to what really happened. This alone without the fact of having to go through two trials has totally held my natural grieving process at bay. Instead of me maybe being at some sort of a forward moving place I am still in many ways back at the night of the accident.

Every day I cry at the thoughts of, where might my children be in life now. What might they be like. Questions that I will never know the answers to. My two new children, Hezekiah and Isaiah, and Stephen's older children Zac and Luke, are all only receiving a tiny percentage emotionally from me than they would otherwise be receiving.

I look at photos of my boys and sometimes find myself crying for days. One day I might have an okay day and then I might spend a whole week sleeping. Other days I might spend emotionally in a far away place and almost totally oblivious to what is going on around me. On every day over the course of the week I would spend 3 to 4 days in my pyjamas just sitting wasting my life or should I say my existence away.

I smoke cigarettes, drink Coke and eat only my nightly meal as I cannot stomach food. I used to love food, from breakfast right through to dinner. Insomnia is also another wonderful side effect of this merry-go-round and sleeping pills are a regular thing. I've also developed physical ailments over the last five years which have now rendered me an addict to painkillers. All I have now - all in all I now live a hollow existence of the life that I once had with a broken heart and soul that I am not really sure will ever be able to mend. No amount of so-called compensation can ever be enough to give me back what I have lost."