DAY FOUR -- CLOSE-UP. Surely this counts?
Surprisingly, I am doing OK today. I wrote this truthfully and have been working on it all week, but this is not how I feel now. I decided to publish it anyway, but just know, I am OK.
All week, I have felt weighed down, heavy, sad and unable to float.
Because today is my sons' 16 th birthday.
In a normal family, there would be cake, and presents lovingly chosen and wrapped. There would be birthday wishes, and cuddles, and jokes and laughter, and candles and singing and a houseful of friends. There would be photos, at least one of the birthday boy looking both embarrassed and pleased by the fuss, and a whole album full of other photos, of birthdays-gone-by, with gap-toothed grins being slowly replaced by an Adams' apple and gangly limbs.
Not so here.
My son never had a single birthday. Not one. No presents, no cake, no wishes. Oh, well, that's not true, is it? No wishes? I have a whole galaxy of wishes made on stars. But he's still dead.
If you have never lost a child, you cannot know.
You can. Not. Know.
There is an emptiness, like the wind whistling round the corner in the dark, always. And at times like this, it's overwhelming.
People don't understand, that I don't miss HIM much. He was 48 days old. He had barely begun to develop, and I have next to no memories of life with him. What hurts the most, what I miss the most, is all that I missed out on.
I have no idea what his laugh would have sounded like. Whether he would have liked riding his bike or reading a book. What his favourite treat would have been. If he'd have liked frozen peas for dessert or refused to wear pink or hated my music.
Do you know the meaning of the word 'overwhelmed'? It means water rising up and up, over your face, over your head, completely engulfing you. Totally submerged. This is how I feel. Swallowed in the sea.
I'm shrouded in sad. It clouds my vision. It muffles voices. I can hear that people are talking to me, but I can't make sense of what they're saying.
It keeps me isolated, all alone in a crowd. I cannot connect with anyone. I cannot make myself care about the tiny meaningless details of everyday life. Not today.