Annie: Holding Back the Tears - Part 2

This is the second excerpt of a novel 'Holding Back the Tears' written by a mum who lost her son to suicide. You can read more about Annie and the first excerpt of this novel here:

Annie: Holding Back the Tears - Part 1

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Stiff and rigid, her expression strong and full of purpose, her voice began to quiver as she said "One day I shall be ready to say goodbye to you ME LADDIE but not yet." That very same moment a large heart shape cloud voyaging through its journey in the sky split into two pieces. One part went in one direction, the other part faded out of sight into the unknown.

The candle glow had now dimmed, bringing her reality once again back into the forefront of her mind and she suddenly became aware she could no longer see clouds. All there was left to see was a moonlit starry darkness. Feeling disorientated for a moment, standing at the window, Rosie shuddered when the coldness from the window pane touched her face. Tiredness and a very, very deep-rooted sadness, which she had never experienced in the whole of her 42 years of life, hit her as she reached for another candle to light it with the one sitting on the ledge with its glow now barely visible. She then walked away from the window taking a last glance at the comforting flame which reflected her image onto the glass. Looking back at her stood an image she hated. What she saw was a Rosie Gilmour she no longer recognised.

~~~

The phone rang out loud in the quietness of the house, travelling up the stairway into the bedroom where Rosie lay sleeping trying to make up for the sleep she had lost. Her heart pounding as she wakened on hearing the ringing, she began to scream.

When her screams subsided she looked around the bedroom then the deep feeling of sadness swept over her once more. Weakness gripped her soul and body, setting every nerve in her body on edge. Laying her head back down to rest on the pillow, Rosie closed her eyes again, blocking out the fact she was not dreaming. Her son was dead. It was a fact. He was indeed dead.

The word dead was too much to bare: it was a word that meant to her final. She decided there and then she would exchange it for ''Me Laddie is having a rest.''

Final would mean to her she had already said goodbye to Finlay and had accepted he was not coming back and she was not prepared to do that. Not yet. "I'm never going to ever see Me Laddie ever again."

"Not yet,'' she  repeated to herself over and over, "not yet."

Whenever feelings of overwhelming sadness incapacitated her ability to function in her normal day to day living chores, she would retreat to her bedroom and reach for a journal she kept under her bed. There, she would write down her emotions through writing poetry from her most inner thoughts. This she did in her Scottish dialect then recite them aloud.

I COVER MA FACE

IS THIS WHIT THEY CAW

THE HUMAN RACE

HE TOOK HIS LIFE

NAE ONE KENS WHY

THIS IS WHY I CRY

TEARS TELL NAE LIE

OH THE PAIN I FEEL

DEEP INSIDE.

NIGHTFALL COMES

INSTEAD OH SLEEP

ME EEN ARE OPEN WIDE

I SEE HIS FACE I FEEL HIS TOUCH

I KEN HE IS BY ME SIDE

I SAY WORDS NAE

MITHER KIN HIDE

DEEP IN MA HERT

IS NAETHING BUT SORROW

I TREASURE TODAY

AS YE NEVER KEN TELL

WHIT  WILL COME  TOMORROW.

She was startled by a voice, a sweet soft gentle voice saying "What can be done to help you?" In a low whisper she said, "give me a new heart maybe." Rosie believed if she did not display her true feelings or answer any questions which came her way she would stop any detection in her voice of how she really felt inside. She said quietly, "There is nothing anyone can do to help me but if anyone can give me back Me Laddie then that is all I need.''

~~~~~

The full novel is now available on Amazon and can be accessed via the following links:

UK - Holding Back The Tears
US - Holding Back The Tears
It is also available on Amazon for Germany, France, Spain & Italy

Annie: Holding Back the Tears - Part 1

Annie Mitchell contacted us a few weeks ago to ask about including a different kind of child loss story on the blog, which we are very honoured to do.

Annie brought home her beautiful son Finlay at 5 days old on hottest day of the year in 1973. Fast forward 26 years and Annie was mourning the loss of Finlay to suicide. Annie has written a novel about her experiences: its unique advantage is that it is based on the author's actual experience of losing her child through suicide. In Annie's own words, finishing this book has been "the biggest achievement of my life."

Annie wrote the book with the aim of helping others who have lost someone close to them and give them the comfort and relief of knowing that they are not alone in their journey. The following is an extract of 'Holding Back the Tears.' This is now available for purchase on Amazon (links are at the end of Part 2). If you would like to contact Annie, please contact us via the blog email address and we will pass on contact details.

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A petite Scottish Lassie ROSIE GILMOUR stood looking out from a small window at the top of the stairway in her terraced house situated close to Edinburgh City. With her shoulders hunched and her forehead resting on her crossed arms she was leaning on the cold wooden window ledge feeling too weak to stand on her own for all her strength had been drained from her shocked body.

She had been standing there for sometime but for how long to be exact Rosie was unaware. It was not until parts of her body had become numb that she began to stir. In a state of shock and disbelief she lifted her head and slowly raised her eyes and stared towards the clouds which were moving across the February winter's sky.

She watched as they passed the window in all their different shapes and sizes one cloud was in the form of  a dragon with fire coming from its nostrils another reminded her of a snowy painted landscape others fluffy cats. Her mind racing on endlessly she began to imagine all sorts of images, one shape in particular caught  her eye the shape of a mother holding her baby… this held her thought which sent her mind into a trance state.

On and on the images developed as they danced around the sky. Rosie turned and focused her attention towards a candle flickering placed on the window ledge beside her. The yellow orange coloured flame bright and comforting reminded her of a lighthouse with its warm glowing light directing ships in the darkness back to shore to once again be near their loved ones. She gazed at the candle flame glowing, giving her a feeling of warmth and security all around her stiff aching weary frame which reinforced her own belief that her son, FINLAY SINCLAIR, whom Rosie referred to as 'ME LADDIE' would also see the glow from the candle giving him guidance to find his way back to be reunited with the mother who he had not seen for over seven years.

''Do not worry Me Laddie,'' she said, ''I shall find a way to bring us together again one day, just you wait and see.''

Then a sweet gentle soft comforting voice echoed around her, interrupting her train of thoughts, jolting her back to reality, speaking quietly ever so quiet that Rosie could just make out what was being said. ''It's time,'' the voice said.

Rosie knew only too well what these words meant to her. She began to whisper ''what is there left for me to say or do?"

Tears clouded her bewildered eyes as she tried to follow the last few passing shapes, she asked the moving objects to stop and listen to what she wanted to say. Speaking with determination in her voice, allowing her decibels to reach out to the largest cloud in the sky which came into view in the shape of a heart, she whispered, ''Whenever you float past where Me Laddie is laid to rest, can you please be sure to give him this message: let him know I have sent this heart filled with my love just for him and I shall never let my love for him ever die, now away with you. Go, go now and take my message to him and do one more thing for me. Follow him wherever he may travel in his new world then I shall know he is never ever going to be alone ever again.''

Feeling exhausted with her steady flow of tears she fought to bring them to a halt by using all the strength and energy her body could muster to regain a small degree of control over her emotional state. However, the physical and mental suffering became more and more apparent to her whenever she needed to release her pent up emotions. For somehow, her tears got stuck behind a huge, large lump at the back of her throat obstructing their pathway towards any remission. It felt as though a door had been slammed shut leaving her without an escape route from her stricken heart.

"I am not ready to say goodbye Me Laddie," she said, watching as the clouds continued to move across the sky.

~~~~~

You can read the second excerpt from the novel here.

Nicole: Happy 2nd Birthday to my beautiful boy

I can't believe two years have passed since we lost you, since you were born.  The moment when we were told you had died remains the worst moment of my life.  Nothing that happened afterwards: not the induction and your silent birth the following day, not leaving you at the hospital, not the funeral - nothing is as bad as that moment.  I've been trying not to think about that moment today.  I'm sorry for that, my sweetheart, but I needed to get through the day.  I've busied myself with tasks, with going out and doing things, and with looking after your little brother. 

I wish you were here to see him.  I'm sure you'd switch between being helpful, and fighting with him, as brothers often do.  But then, he might not be here if you were.  That thought bothers me - as I wouldn't be without him for a moment, but then, I hate being without you.  I am greedy, and I want you both. 

Tomorrow should have been celebrating, and balloons, and trying to stop your brother grabbing a handful of cake.  It should have been you playing with your friends, Arthur and Matthew amongst them of course.  I love seeing them.  It was hard at first, but now I have your brother they allow me to imagine what you might have been like, just a little. 

So instead tomorrow we will celebrate for you.  No cake, no party, no balloons.    Instead we will wear robot t shirts, all three of us, as we think of that as your symbol.  We will do another New Thing in your honour, as we have been doing all week.  We are going to visit Northumberlandia.  We will be outdoors, on that sculpture in the earth, and I will imagine you running around, about how you might have been.  I will think of you as you were until that last day- safe and warm in my tummy, moving about, kicking your dad in the face. Giving us both such joy.       

We will visit your plaque in the cemetery, and see your name in the book of remembrance.  We'll take sunflowers for you, my beautiful first boy who lit up our lives. We will give thanks, to you, and to the universe, for the gift that was you and the love you brought us.  Happy birthday, my wonderful boy.  And thank you. xxx