Mother of footy star James Ackerman who died in horror tackle aged just 25 reveals the heartbreaking sight that put his death into perspective when she visited his grave

Ten years have passed since rugby league star James Ackerman took the field for the last time, and for his mother Sonya, reminders of his presence still arrive when she least expects them.

She still sees him everywhere, and sometimes in confronting places - like a child's grave that recently shifted her grief into a new perspective.

On one of the many visits she's made to her son's resting place in Caloundra, Queensland, Sonya found herself asking aloud through tears, 'Who is worse off now?'

It was then that she noticed a nearby grave belonging to a five-year-old boy also named James, and in that moment, she felt her son's message come through clearly, just as he used to say in life: 'There's always someone worse off than us.'

James took the field for the last time when he ran out for the Sunshine Coast Falcons in a Queensland Cup match against the Norths Devils on June 20, 2015.

Within five minutes of kickoff, he was felled by a shoulder charge from NRL star Francis Molo that left him unconscious and critically injured.

Despite the desperate efforts of trainers and medics, and two days of hope and heartbreak in hospital, James never woke up, and his family was forced to make the agonising decision to turn off his life support just days before his 26th birthday.

He left behind a young family: two-year-old Milly, three-year-old Ollie, and his wife Saraa Spaans, who has since remarried but continues to honour the memory of the boy she first fell in love with as a teenager.

Saraa says time hasn't eased the pain but has instead deepened it for their children, who now understand more clearly just how long a decade can feel without their father.

She remembers him as the kind of dad who, after a long day at work, would still be the first to grab the kids and take them to the park, a man full of life who loved to make others laugh and never took a single moment for granted.

On that tragic afternoon, Sonya sprinted across the field to reach her son after seeing him collapse, praying that the man known as 'Ackers' would once again bounce back to his feet as he always had.

But this time was different, and deep down, she knew it the moment she saw him lying still.

Falcons CEO Chris Flannery, who wasn't at the game that day despite usually travelling with the team, still remembers learning about the tragedy via a phone call.

What followed was a blur of hospital rooms, meetings with specialists, and devastating conversations, including one with three neurosurgeons who confirmed Sonya's fears.

Her son would not recover, and even if he did, he would never live the life he deserved.

In that crushing moment, she asked if James could be an organ donor, not because she had prepared for such a tragedy, but because it was a promise they had spoken about years before, and it was the only way to make meaning out of something so senseless.

Saraa, then just 25, summoned a strength she didn't know she had to sign the donation waivers, knowing full well it was what James would have wanted, even as she tried to comfort two children too young to understand what they had lost.

That brave decision would go on to save or improve the lives of more than 40 people, from newborns to the elderly, with James's tissue, heart valves, bone, and organs gifted to strangers who now carry a piece of him with them.

Sonya recalls receiving a letter from an 89-year-old woman who had received some of James's bone, and another from a father of three girls who said a part of James's heart allowed him to enjoy Christmas with his family for the first time in years.

Every year, that man now buys the biggest Christmas tree he can find, decorates it with his daughters, and thinks of the young man who gave him the chance to keep making memories.

The impact of James's life and death is still felt deeply within the Falcons, where his number eight jersey has been permanently retired and his name is sung in the team song after every win.

Flannery says new players often ask why the number eight is missing, and when they hear James's story, they immediately understand what it means to wear the jersey and represent the club.

At the 10-year anniversary match against Wynnum-Manly, players took a knee for 'Ackers' in a powerful tribute that reinforced just how much he still means to the club and the wider community.

Back home, Sonya visits his grave often, tending to the site, talking to her son, and drawing comfort from being close to the place where he rests.

She says the loss still hurts every day, and the pain intensifies when she looks at Ollie and Milly and sees how much they've grown in the years without their father.

'I look at the kids and their growth and that's what hurts more than anything,' she said.

'That makes you realise the time. It feels like yesterday, but when you look at the kids you realise it wasn't.' 

Sonya tries to hold onto James's words, telling herself there is always someone doing it tougher, even when her own heart is breaking.

She admits she had some very dark years, but the kids gave her purpose - something to fight for, something that forced her out of bed when the sadness threatened to take hold.

Her husband Michael, who watched James play from the time he was a junior in Brisbane, says the game changed for him the day he saw his middle child go down and never get back up.

 The family endured the 2017 coronial inquest, which cleared police of wrongdoing but questioned the game's handling of on-field violence and called for greater protections for players.

Michael has since urged the NRL to continue improving its stance on player safety, especially around concussion and contact rules, saying fans might complain, but the wellbeing of athletes must come first.