What could be worse?

What could be worse than this?

This is what I’ve thought often.

Despite the daily attempts. No, not daily, the minute by minute attempts to find a brighter light, a better minute, something positive. In the back of my mind, I think, what could be worse than this?

It has been a dark few days, clutching photo frames, sobbing in the bath, reliving the horror of that day, the pain of the gap you left hurting. Arms become heavy, legs can’t move, bed is hard to climb out of. Telephones are unanswered. Tears keep falling and falling.

What could be worse?

Today I passed someone in the car, an unknown. I wondered if she had children, none in the car, it’s the Summer hols so I thought probably not. And then it clicked. What could be worse? For me, worse would be not having you at all. That moment made me realise despite the awful pain, I’d rather the pain than not to have had you at all. Who knows how long we are supposed to be here for, I don’t believe anyone ‘picked you to be an angel’, I don’t believe there is a plan or an identified time. Things happen. Good things happen. Bad things happen. End of.

The pain will I guess always be here, how can it not, you were such a beautiful daughter. I found it hard for the first time to look at your photos this week, I found it impossible to face I’ll never stroke your cheek or see you smile. I almost had to walk out of a room as two children happily drew for their mum and I wanted to say. I did that, I drew with my daughter, why isn’t she here, why did she get taken away. I didn’t.

At least I had you here.

I had you here to paint your first bedroom in a light sunny yellow and to put the panda border around your room. I had you here to put you into your mint green Moses wicker basket for six weeks until you became too long and then you were here for me to settle you into your huge cot at night with your farmyard mobile. You were here to have soapy silly baths every night with your sponge letters.

You were here to welcome Morgan into the world and here to dance in the kitchen to Muse when you were 5 and we pretended we were trees growing slowly to their song Newborn until we grew tall and the music kicked in and we just ran around the house jumping about. You were here when your little friends would call and you’d ask me to play ‘that tune’ on the piano, the one that started very slowly and gradually became faster and faster until you were all screaming excitedly! You were here to make me a thousand meals out of your ‘kitchen’ with an array of ingredients, it didn’t take you long to realise I wasn’t actually eating the plastic tomato so you insisted on using real food. You were here to write to Santa and post it at Rhug, I hadn’t seen it as you were clearly testing his powers! He wrote back and in it he noted how thoughtful it was that you had asked him to remember Morgan too, I still have that letter.

You were here to make up ‘a play’ with Morgaan most nights after dinner when you were about 9, you’d both go into the other room to learn your ‘script’ then come out onto the kitchen floor to ‘perform’. Sometimes with props sometimes without. We would cry with laughter at some of them, then you’d start telling Morgan off for getting his lines wrong! You were here when you went on holiday with your dad and you managed to get away with brushing your curly hair all week. After dipping in and out of swimming pools and salty seas, you were here when I had to take you to the hairdresser to get it all chopped off. That wasn’t a good look Tes!

You were here to celebrate my favourite days of the year, birthdays and Christmas. All birthdays mean banners and balloons at breakfast with presents piled high in the living room, all cards unopened until the day!Wrapping would be torn off quickly and the dogs would run around with it excitedly in their mouth. You loved my excitement for Christmas and said you hadn’t realised other people didn’t get so worked up about it until you got to high school! You were here to make the Christmas window decorations, to put the chocolates on the tree (and eat them). You were here the night I gave in to a bit of ‘make believe’ when I played some bells through speakers ever so lightly just as you were falling asleep on Christmas Eve. You completely believed you had heard the sleigh šŸ™‚

And it goes on Tes. You were here and you were here to turn into the most amazing daughter I could have ever ever wanted, of course I wanted you for longer, for ever but I can’t. I’ve forever got your smile in my eyes and I can still feel your skin, I have the memory of your laughter and the sound of your voice. I wish it was real but it isn’t and the acceptance of that continues to be a battle. You were here and for that I can only be happy about.

Miss you sweetheart.

Mum x

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11 thoughts on “What could be worse?

  1. Beautifully written honeybun. An insightful mind as yours must be a real gift for other readers experiencing similar pain xxxx

  2. Hi Dwysan, I don’t know you but a mutual friend has just put me on to your site (Chris Sims). I am in awe of your writing. It is poignant, beautiful and sensitive. When my daughter died in 2006, my world changed forever. For what it’s worth, your writing is an inspiration. An inspiration to me and, I don’t doubt, an inspiration to many others – keep up the good work, Alistair Moulden.

    1. I said to Chris your writing is far superior! Great blog. I’m sorry about your daughter and the pain, as you say our world changed forever, I try to look at each day not only as the present but as ‘a present’. I achieve this some days, not others and that’s ok too. Thanks again.

  3. My Dwysan – you are, as I knew you would be, inspirational…, so clever, so astute, so logical…….such courage…I am proud to know you my sweedee, Tes could not have had a better person for a mum xx

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