We made it. Made it through April, made it through all the dates, made it through a birthday and a death day and a funeral day and a heap of horrible other days. Still upright. Not really whole, but not broken, or not more broken anyway. A month ago it felt like I had to hold my breath and see the world when I got to the other side. here I am, still breathing. When I woke up this morning, life felt odd. Veiled. A bit out of step with life outside the window. I turned off the radio, because today’s child interview was with a boy called Freddy.
Some days, I think I would sell my soul to have just another 60 minutes with him, with my Freddie. Some days, what hurts worse is that I know 60 minutes would not be enough and if I can’t have forever, it is better to hang on to my soul. Everything has a price, it seems.
I took a box of Monkey Comforters to SCBU today, or at least, I took them as far as the foyer and a good friend took them the rest of the way. And I cried when I heard that we are still remembered, with relief really. I don’t know how many babies have occupied that little space and lived or how many have died since. It must be hard to remember them all. I hope the monkeys comfort some mums and dads tonight and they get to go home with a baby to be loved by.
I had to stop, on the way home, because I was crying too much to drive. I pulled up outside a house and sat there for a while, the very picture of some mad woman. When the house owner jogged home, he tapped on my window to check I was all right. It was nice of him, since most men run screaming from weeping woman. Brave, I’d say.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you,” I replied. “I’m fine.”
And I am. Mostly.
Merry, I suspect they will always remember you and your family. I have been involved with looking after so many people over the years, often at the end of their lives, and there are many who are ingrained in my mind for various reasons. I often find them popping into my head for no apparent reason. Even those who I initially can’t quite grasp the memory for often come flooding back when I read the notes or reminisce with colleagues about them. Often I can recall their faces (usually more so than the names) but other times it is an emotional memory around a recalled situation. There are just certain people or situations that will always stay close and that is something that makes my job so special to me.
That is a nice thought, I hope it is true. It feels as if so few people met him that I’m desperate to think that the few who did will remember.
Oh Merry fine is all you can ask for somedays. Well done for getting thorugh.
Thank you. It felt like an achievement.
fwiw getting through is a massive thing. xx
Ps the photos are stunning.
Hipstamatic for iPhone app. It is all together too cool 😀