Tidal Wave

Dear Robyn,

I’m sorry I haven’t wrote to you in person for a while. I hope you know that you are always on my mind. It’s been a funny time of late, I have been feeling much brighter now my hormones and mood have settled down. Oskar has some sort of pattern to his sleep now and we have been going along to a couple of baby groups which has helped. It helps in the day to day but none of it helps with your loss.

I think I have hit one of those tides of grief again. You would be 16 months old now, which sounds so little but also feels very far from you. Sometimes I wonder if I should be ‘over it’ by now, that other people will look at me and think I should be. How can I ever get over or forget you? I don’t want to. I know that I have to keep taking steps forward and looking to the future now your brother is here but I won’t be leaving you behind. You are not the past in any sense. That is what makes these tides of grief difficult, remembering you, feeling very sad, knowing that life keeps moving but being reminded that you are not here. 

Watching Oskar develop, now that he’s smiling and laughing. Seeing him grow out of clothes, learning to chew his hands and hearing him making noises, it reminds me of what I never got to see you do. I’m feeling your loss more than ever at a time that is a happy one with Oskar. 

Yesterday when we went to the country fair, I thought about you all day. You would have liked to have seen the animals and watch the displays. I thought of you when watching the hot air balloons take flight, wondering if they could reach you. I was missing a tiny hand in mine. I just still feel there is a piece missing that I can never replace but I don’t know how to adapt to living with that. I doubt there is any instructions or method to it. Somebody did say to me “allow yourself the space to grieve”. At the time I don’t think I fully understood but I do more so now.

I hope you are growing big and strong and  that there is lots of lego to play with, you can build us a big castle to live in.

Oskar sends a dribble, missing you and love you always,

Mummy xxxx