I wish I would have started blogging in happier times. I could have told you about my perfect life with my perfect family - and my beautiful children Lennon and Bessie. We were so happy. That is until this summer, on the 10th July 2010 my world collapsed. My beautiful son Lennon had a fatal accident, when a was driving on a tractor with his grandfather, my dad. It was one of those oldtimer tractors and when it flipped backwards my darling boy didn't stand a chance.

Today it's been four months. Nothing has since been the same. Every breath I take is painful and I am in complete despair and pain about the fact that I am unable to change the past, that this has really happened to my son, who I have loved from the very moment that I knew I was pregnant. Lennon had made our life complete, we were so proud him and of everything he did. He had the kindest, most beautiful heart and everyone who met him, kids and adults alike, would love this little cheeky monkey. And it seems so utterly unfair that this amazing child had to have such senseless accident two months before his third birthday.

No matter who I turn to for help, nobody can actually do anything, but listen and offer their sympathies. I have read a list of books and blogs of other bereaved parents, even spoken to people, who have had similar tragedies happen to them. They say that the pain never leaves you, but that time changes the pain so that it would become less overwhelming. Yet to tell you the truth: I don't believe this and cannot even imagine a time were thinking of my baby leaving us will ever hurt less. Every day I cry, I feel the horror of this reality and I feel unable to even exist. Yet there is no other option. So when people think that I am coping, let me tell you I am not, I am purely functioning in my duty to live and love most of all for my daughter Bessie, my husband, our families and friends.

I am sorry to anyone who is hoping to read a more uplifting or inspirational blog. I also hope that reading about my despair wont upset my friends and family too much.  I just feel the need to shout my emotions out into the world. Many bereaved parents seem to have written a book about their rocky road of coming to terms with the loss of their child some years after the tragedy. So I want to attempt to write down what happens on this road while I am on it, even if for now I don't have the faintest idea of how this pain of missing Lennon should ever be different. 

So, I guess this is an experiment. Maybe one unimaginable day my blog will be proof that one can learn to live with such traumatising loss. Or this blog will show that the saying "Time is a great healer" is a load of sh***.