I am aware that I have been very silent over the past few weeks during the festive season. This has been partly due to some expected, obvious reasons, and partly not.
Firstly I was pretty sick over the entire Christmas break, battling a viral infection and cough that lasted an epic eight weeks. Somewhere in me, I knew that I would be ‘felled’ by something nasty over Christmas. Ever since Romy passed I have weirdly been in excellent health. This was a puzzle to me as I knew how run down I was emotionally. Why, then, did I seem to be so physically resistant to anything? Then I read somewhere that grief gives us boundless, ‘unhuman’ energy, and this I know to be true. For the past six months – and tomorrow marks this point to the day – I have been bouncing off the walls, leaping about with boundless, unspent energy which seemed to be driving me forward. Continue reading
A few weeks ago now, well into the task of decluttering ahead of our impending move, I was faced with the monumentally difficult task of sorting through Romy’s belongings. As you can imagine, I had been dreading this for a long time. The smallest bedroom in our house, happily vacated by our older daughter as she moved in with her brother, had been earmarked for Romy and contained drawers of her clothes – some worn, some still with tags attached – and baskets of her toys. Our older children had wooden name plates for their doors and a few days after Romy was born we excitedly ordered her a matching one which was proudly displayed on the door that would be hers. We had moved her sister’s plate and reattached it onto the joint bedroom before placing the new plate onto Romy’s bedroom door, where it stayed for weeks. Continue reading
I have been thinking about writing this post for many weeks. Thinking about it, and then putting it off, and putting it off some more. One of the things I promised Romy I would do is write about her, her life and its meaning, but up until now it has just been too difficult and painful. But I always do what I say I’m going to do, so here is the first post to this blog. I’m still not sure who I am writing this for: for me, for her, for you all who have been so incredibly kind and supportive but who have no possible way of knowing what my life is like now. I have resisted sharing how I feel because the nightmare that I currently live each day is so awful I cannot bear to share it with anyone: not another mother, not a friend, and with the exception of my husbandd, certainly not a loved one. I don’t want to invite anyone into this hell. So please bear with me on several levels. My writing skills, historically pretty good, are now shaky as I find it very difficult to articulate what I feel. I am a total technophobe, so if this somehow makes it onto the right page without disappearing into the ether I will be amazed. Continue reading