Mummy's heart is getting more sore by the day, each day everyone speaks about Christmas, each day people talk about what they are doing on Christmas Day, each day I bump into people and they say "If I don't see you before, have a nice christmas".
This world seems to revolve around Christmas. But yet our hearts and our soreness still revolve around you.
When people talk about Christmas we don't answer. We stay quiet and people don't notice because Christmas is an exciting time for them, all of them....except it isn't for us.
Each day when it counts down nearer to Christmas, it is counting down to your birthday, 3 days before when you should have been turning 2. That day where we will take flowers with a number to the cemetery, with a superman bear that family friends have given Mummy for you, and the day that we wrap up cards in cellophane so they don't get ruined at your forever space.
3 days after that, Mummy and Daddy will wake up in the morning missing you ...as we always do...but thsi year we will be missing you SO much, because this year you would have been getting presents that matched your interests. You would have been visiting your grandparents and everyone would have been excited to see Haydon, the 2 year old, for his first Christmas that he would really be able to appreciate.
I can't get excited. It isn't that I won't allow myself to, it is the mere mention of that time of year....and that's when Mummy's heart starts to break and she wants to scream and shout and tell everyone that she is hurting too much for Christmas.
The doctor understands this. She said to Mummy on Wednesday that if she could pay for Daddy to have some time off so we could escape from it, she would. How kind is she. She gets it.
So many people think that I year and 7 months is long enough for us to grieve our son.
I wonder how long others would grieve for theirs?...would they only grieve for 1 year and 7 months?
I doubt it.
Anyway, I digress. Christmas. I hate that word. It is a word that fills me with tears, fills me with fears, fills me with dread.
My son isn't here. You aren't here. Even your cousin told Mummy on the phone that Christams is a time for families and for Mummies spending time with their children. How right she is.
And I will, in our very own space, with your very own candle. You will be with us. In the only way we know how, you will be with us.
I am already exhausted. I am already seeing changes in myself in the build up. Changes that I don't like. That the doctor fears. Changes that are making it easier for Mummy to cope but yet harder to face your birthday and Christmas in one fell swoop. The doctor is keeping an eye. Mummy is keeping an eye. Daddy is keeping an eye. Everyone is keeping an eye, but only you know how much we miss you, because I am sure you are missing us just as much xxxxxxxx
Whoever said that year 2 without you would be easier told lies. It isn't easier. It is harder for Mummy and Daddy and seems easier for everyone else.
We love you, we just do. Every second of everyday we look for you, feel you and miss you.
Come visit us in our dreams Bubba xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx you know that makes us miss you less, even if just for a little while <3
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