Where have the last fifteen years gone? I still remember the day you died like it was yesterday although I don’t think about it really now, I prefer to focus on the happy memories and the fun times we had. I was going through some paperwork the other day and found some photos of when we went on holiday to stay with the Frewers down in Cornwall when I was eight and G was 10. Aside from the tragic fashions (a tutti frutti pattern crop top and shorts with long socks?!) which made them cringy to look at was the sad realisation that we didn’t take enough photos. I only have a couple of photos of you which are my most precious possessions and are the reason I’m a bit snap happy to make sure everything is captured for posterity.
Your newest nephew B joined the party two days before G’s birthday last year. The happiest cheekiest chubbiest baby in the world and a total credit to G and K. S is relishing the role of big brother and is such a contented little (not so little) boy who is soon to be six years old and is getting a grown up boys bike for his birthday. He’s quick witted, intelligent and loves reading – just like you. I talk to him when I can about you so he knows how special you were, and still are to everyone, and it’s also a good chance to bond in a more sensible way than pretending to be a race car in Sainsbury’s or wearing a Mickey Mouse bike helmet in Halfords. It hurts a bit because I know that you would absolutely adore them and spoil them rotten and shower them in kisses and cuddles and love.
I’ve done a lot of letting go over the past year of some of my hang ups, bad memories, fears and phobias. I’ve been on a quest for self improvement and a large part of that has been letting go of the anger I felt towards you for leaving us. For leaving me, your darling daughter. I was so cross that you couldn’t reply when I said ‘love you’ that final time, my grief made me think it was a sign that you didn’t care, and it made a twisted ball of anger in my stomach which lasted for too many years. I realise now that words are just that, and you were too busy desperately trying to stay alive and to stay with us to tell me something that I knew with the very core of my being. I’m sorry Mummie.
I’m doing really well at the moment, sure some days I’m the pigeon and some I’m the statue but I’ve come to realise that’s life. The ups, the downs and the inbetweens and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
See you in the morning when the sunshine comes again,
All love for now, ever and always
Ally Weasel xxxxxx