Mittwoch, 9. Juli 2014

Four years

Today it has been four years since the day that took my child from me. Four years in which I was haunted by the horrible memories of that brutal day. One of the so-called stages of grief is "acceptance", but I am not sure this theory applies to losing a child. 
My head knows, but my heart will not accept it. 
Sometimes it feels more like giving up. And then my strengths crumbles beneath me, as if someone had just now told me what happened and for the first time it sounds true. 

Sometimes I get asked how I manage to deal with such a loss - and frankly, I wonder myself how anyone can deal with such a painful experience. Because I don't deal with "it". What would dealing "with it" mean anyway? 
I just continue living. 

Lennon now has four little siblings, three of which will never meet him. Each of them is a little fascinating person that fills me with so much pride and love, and I try to be a "normal" mother to them, because each of them is just as precious as he was to me. When the accident happend I wanted to disappear, I thought I would not manage to look after Bessie or be a good mother to her, because I was in so much pain - just being awake was hurting so badly

But a friend gave me a reality check. 
She reminded me that each child is the most precious thing we have, so if I had left Bessie behind, because I lost Lennon, I would have made him more precious than her. And that is not true. 
I think all mothers can understand, that even though we love each of our children individually and for different reasons and characteristics, each of them receives 100% of or love. 
Lennon leaving has broken my heart 100%, but then there is Bessie, who I love with 100%, Brodie, who I love with 100%, Trudie, who I love with 100% and Phoebe, who I love with 100%. 
That is why most days I try not to focus on the loss, because then my heart is 100% broken, but focus on the four that are here with me. 

Maybe I am running away from my grief, maybe I should accept "it" and "move on" as sometimes people suggest, but for right now, I am doing much better to by simply changing the focus. 

What counts is that Lennon's four siblings are raised without traumatised parents, that they can laugh and play and enjoy being children. Life as an adult becomes more serious anyway. The accidents will haunt me for the rest of my life, but I don't want it to haunt their lifes, too. 

Lennon will always remain my precious first son. 
If anything I would like anyone reading this today, and those who knew him, to remember him today for beeing that cool little boy that would cycle on his balance bikes around the pavements of Edinburgh, that would always wear his cap slightly tilted, that adored his little sister, that would not get out of the 'little tikes' toycar in playgroup and that would always pick the jam buiscuit, who loved cocktail tomatoes and Pom-Bear crisps, who could watch the movie 'Cars' back to back and that made us as parents so incredibly proud and happy. 

Lennon - we miss you every day.