Sunday, 29 December 2013

Julz: A Brand New Year

As the new year approaches, leaving the old one a memory; the clock strikes midnight in the hope that at a turn of a date people change, for the new and improved better them.

Another date, that as a bereaved parent means that we’re leaving our baby even further into the past.

A distant memory.

Upon leaving 2011 our baby was safely holding on tight,
My heart used as part of a life support system.

Lovingly speaking of the excitement the New Year would bring,
Hope, happiness and joy,
The happily ever after.

Leaving 2012, clinging onto our baby’s memory ensuring that she will stay in my heart forever,
With hope for a bright and shiny New Year,
Knowing that it was “only last year” that we had held her, kissed her,
Even changing her nappy nothing more than fond memory.

“Only a Year ago”

Here we are leaving 2013, our first year where we can no longer say
“This time last year”
Time’s way of attempting to wipe her further from our memory.

Expectations to be had that now it has been two years, an expectation that this has indeed been long enough to grieve.

Time to get over everything; move on and return to normal.

But when you can’t remember “normal” life, it is hard to return to an exact point in time.

When everything has changed but the changes can’t be physically be seen.

Do we mention our baby, now as much as we did in 2013?

Because it was after all “only last year.”

Creeping into 2014 when part of you remains in 2012, does our “Bereaved Parent” title get stripped?

Hearts that were for a short while allowed to be ripped wide open for all to see, ensuring her memory be kept alive through grief; now need to be lightly held together by tape and glue.

Because the real world deems you fit to move on.

A widow doesn’t get stripped of her title,
Even 20 years down the line she can still be deemed a widow.

Children who lose a parent aren’t expected to replace them, to move on too quickly.

But a lot child, a lost future, even a lost past has a timescale.

Nothing set in stone but obvious cracks in questions.

The forgotten children.

Moving into 2014 away from our month old daughter leaves me to think
How much further can I bring her with me openly?

Or will she gradually become more and more my elephant in the room
Invisible to all apart from me.

Forever locked inside 2012.

Tuesday, 24 December 2013

Julz: A Waddling Bump to Wading in Treacle

Two years, seems a life time ago.
It shouldn’t be it’s only
Two years….
Two years ago this Christmas, I had a teeny, tiny bump
Not quite 20 weeks.
Excitement knowing that a year from then we would have a 7 month old.
Signing Christmas cards
Love from bump and us,
A year from then we’d have an extra name.
It is acceptable to add plus bump,
Of course it is, it is a happy magical time bump is part of the family,
We didn’t know the gender, we weren’t even 20 weeks
Yet we could put
“Love from bump”.

Then bump turns into a very early baby.
We now have a name to put in the card,
An extra kiss, an extra smile joining in with the festivities.
We just have to sit back and wait for the months to pass,
As Christmas would be the next “big thing”

Only for you it never came,
You died.
You never saw Christmas.
The Christmas cards arrive
“To us”
“We’re thinking of you”
Some thought a little remembrance.
The sender is unsure of what to write.
The second Christmas,
The second one without you another reminder that
This year we should have had a toddler,
Yet the cards are empty from your name.
You did exist,
I’m sure you did,
I know you do
But why are you left out.
You’re still in my heart
But not in a card,
It’s not fair.
Your little sister is here, and people assume
That now we’re ok.
Christmas is now complete.
But we will always have an empty space,
Wishes are all we have;
What if’s and broken dreams.
We miss you now if not more than ever.
I wish I wasn’t wading through treacle.

Thursday, 19 December 2013

Stacey: Last Christmas

Last Christmas
I carried you near my heart
But the very next year you went away.
This year
Theres nothing but tears
We’re missing someone special.

Once bitten and twice shy
I think of another
But you still fill my mind.
Tell me why
I no longer recognise me?
what has happened this year,
It doesn't surprise me
(Merry Christmas)

I wrapped it up and sent it
For the angels to tell you "I love you,”
I meant it
Now I know what a mother is
I’d give anything to kiss you now
I know you'd heal me again.

Empty arms,
Consumed by my tired mind.
I'm hiding from the truth
And pain of the ice.
My god I thought you were coming home this year.
Me? I guess I have lost all innocence.

A face of pain with a fire of anger in my heart.
I try to keep it under cover but it tears me apart.
Now my heart has mothers love, you'll never be forgotten I promise.

Maybe next year I'll bring home someone
I'll bring home someone special.