Oh… Peaches.
You were off my radar when you were a wild child. I didn’t know that bit of you. But recently, after your spirited defence of attachment parenting, I found you on IG. We exchanged a word or two. I smiled at your pictures, of the love and fierce joy that shined out of them as you brought up your boys, the adoration in your voice. I let myself have a fond moment at seeing you carve, unexpectedly perhaps, such a natural, mature and positive path of parenting and marriage out for yourself.
You were a joy to watch. I hope you knew that. I hope you counted the likes and comments and felt the admiration and affection people had for you. I hope you knew that mothers of all shapes and sizes applauded you for speaking up and parenting your way. Good on you.
I have no idea what happened today, not the what or why or how. It doesn’t matter to anyone outside anyway. You’ve gone and that what matters. But I do know that in the midst of reliving our own darkest days of loss, I’m thinking of your dad and sisters who have to walk that path again and your boys and husband are starting the worst of journeys. I will guard them in my heart, every April. I will add another date to our string of dark April days and hold them there; I’ll hope they feel that care.
The worst of grief is that you can never quite escape it. The words of your devastated family have burned the scars of our own loss and I ache for them and for all they should have had of you and all you should have had of them.
From the outside, looking in, you made me smile and gave me hope for the mothers of the future. I hoped the young girls of today would follow in your confident footsteps.
Fly high, lovely girl. You will be missed, by the people with a hole blown through their souls and even by the people who just shared a photo a day with you.
Bex @ The Mummy Adventure says
Beautiful post and I had so much respect for peaches. She seemed such a wonderful mother and so confident and happy. However it happened it is the end of a young life far too soon x x
June says
I think she was about 16 when she came on to my radar, when she presented her own documentary on tv. She was smart and witty, and, having followed her mum, I followed her career too. There were times when I’d read an article about her and feel sad that she could be heading in the same direction as her mum. But then she met Tom, and things changed. She was suddenly in control of her life again, and seemed so happy with her little family. When she wiped the floor with the Hopkins woman recently I felt proud of her, and really happy that she had grown in to such a lovely woman. Her death has shocked me so much. If it had happened years ago, I would have almost expected it. But now? So unfair. Those poor little boys, and Tom. I don’t have a lot of time for her father, but he’s lost a daughter and I do feel for him. It’s looking increasingly like natural causes, if you can call death at 25 ‘natural’ 🙁
Jeanette says
Lovely words Merry. x