Six Months

Six months since we saw your face for the first time. Six months since I stroked your long fingers, my fingers, and wondered how on earth we could have made something so perfect. Six months since we walked out into a world without you. 

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The realisation that I will never see you again in this life still takes my breath away. Those first few months feel so alien, covered in a mesh of shock and trauma. I don’t remember most of it and I certainly don’t know how we got through them but somehow we put one foot in front of the other and ended up here. Here doesn’t feel like even half way there, just a tiny fraction. 
People talk about you less now. You’re not the main topic of conversations with other people but it’s okay, I understand. The world kept spinning when ours slowed down entirely and that still hurts. I have to keep reminding myself that the people who matter will never forget you. They’ll never mistake the number of children we have. They’ll never think you could be replaced or moved on from. The people who matter love you forever. You stole their hearts as much as ours. Selfishly, I love it. I love that people cried for you. I love that they want to honour you. You deserve that and so much more. 
Grief is overwhelming and confusing, still. Now more than ever. Sometimes I don’t understand how I will ever function properly in a world without you. I miss the weight of you in my arms. I miss the warmth of your body when you were born, the feel of your little hand in mine. I miss the coolness of your cheek when I kissed it for the last time. I didn’t mind you being so cold. I didn’t mind because you were mine and I was yours and I loved you exactly as you were. 
We make up stories about you. We wonder what you’re doing, who you’re with. We know you’re not really gone, not completely. We feel you all the time. In the winter sunrise, the movement of the ocean and the breeze through the trees. I love standing outside our back door, closing my eyes and feeling you so close like a word caught on the end of my tongue. I need those moments. Those moments are what keep me putting one foot in front of the other, one step further towards you. 
Mrs D x

1 Comment

  1. February 2, 2016 / 12:25 pm

    I'll never stop being amazed at how beautifully you capture a grief I will never know, but you make it so that we all feel it in our hearts. I am proud of everything you achieved with him and for him.

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