I haven’t written as much lately though as ever Tes is in all of my thoughts.  More than ever in fact.  Everything feels like it is coming full circle in a way.  My writing has helped me and I had hoped it would help others, I’m not sure it has and sometimes I feel I am opening and re-opening wounds that not only are difficult for me but quite probably difficult for those around me. 

I began this blog because I found myself almost a year ago at my computer, staring, hoping.  Looking for answers.

 I went to and incredulously I was typing in eight words I wish I had never reason to type.

How to survive the death of your child’

I looked at the words on my screen and couldn’t believe what I was typing.  I wasn’t looking for the latest job or iPhone review.  I wasn’t looking at the new skinny jeans in Top Shop or some new wedge Fly boots.  I was googling how to survive the death of my child. 

What I found mostly depressed me and that is why I began to write myself.  It has been cathartic and I know it has helped some people and it has also brought me tentatively closer to some other parents in the same situation.  I say tentatively as I steer slowly towards them but I keep my distance too, it’s an odd club to belong to and I’m not sure I’m quite happy to accept my membership as yet.

When my Google search results came up, the first one that comes up is from Wikihow.  Wikihow . Can you believe that?  I thought Wikihow was there to tell you how to change a plug or how to make bread. Etc. 

I didn’t know it also told you how to cope with losing your child.  I read it of course.  It actually isn’t that bad looking back – all the main things are there, take time, look after you, there is no wrong or right way etc.  In between these statements adverts pop up for Marks & Spencer’s and the one I remember most is the one that advertises – ‘how to end an argument in 30 seconds’.  Odd I thought, how these adverts pop up in such sensitive circumstances.

Unfortunately Google doesn’t hold the answers and neither do I but I did want to share some of my own thoughts on what helps in some small way.

My ‘advice’ comes in one paragraph. 

My good friend once said to me, when I gave birth to Tes almost 16 years ago, in the early sleepless weeks –  do whatever you can to make things easy on yourself.  

She told me to forget about routine and text books.

 Just take the easy option, she said. 

 It was the best piece of advice then and it is the best piece of advice ironically I can give with death.   Obviously it goes without saying health and safety is paramount but  take offers of help, or don’t.  Cry,  or don’t.  Weep or don’t. Laugh or don’t.  Have a few drinks or don’t. The list goes on.  The point is to do what helps you at that time and keep that advice in your head as you go on your journey because what helps changes.  As time goes on work might help, routine might help, new hobbies might help, new friends might help, haircuts might help, time on your own might help.

You have to help yourself first but never be scared to ask for help.

I wrote a poem today, because today that helped me.

A part of every second.
A wave of every tree.
A morning of every day.
An end of every night.
 I miss you.

 A smile of every story.
 A dance of every tune.
 A rise of every breath.
 A tear of every memory.
 I miss you.

 A footstep walked on by.
A sunny ray of warmth.
A book of new print.
A story to share.
I miss you.

A heart filled with love.
A room of quiet.
A celebration of event.
A whisper to myself.
I miss you.

A changed beginning.
A beautiful Spring day.
A month almost twelve
My baby girl.

I will always miss you

Mum x


8 thoughts on “Answers

  1. Your poem says it all. I haven’t written as much on my blog either. Perhaps because it is so difficult to put the painful feelings into words, and not wanting to scare people away either. I see the photo of your sweet daughter and I think of us mothers who are walking around with that missing piece in our lives, the one that says “no one and nothing will ever take your place, sweet daughter,” (or in the case of a son, “sweet son.”

    I love the advice, “Do whatever it takes to make it easy on yourself.” I’ve been trying to stick with that too. Nothing we google will truly help us through this swamp. A clue here, a bit of advice there sometimes hints at some way through. The knowledge and wisdom of other mothers (and fathers), such as you, helps me see that I’m not so strange/weird afterall. Thank you for posting today. It helps.

    1. Thank you and for taking the time to respond and share, as you say it helps and gives some normality to a surreal and horriffic situation, thoughts are with you and I’m sending hope your way x

  2. I visited your post today after you “liked” mine on Grief. I love what you say here, I love your open emotions and feelings. Thank you for sharing them. I identify with them as I lost my son in a school bus accident when he was 9. It has been many years ago now, but the missing our children never goes away. Yes, in time we learn to live with the emptiness they filled, we even can find some joy again. But it helps so much to share with others and see that we are not alone in our pain. Again, thank you for sharing, and I look forward to reading more of you. Sending hope and love your way.

    1. Thanks you so much for replying to my post. I read a few of yours. They are inspiring. I am amazed continually by the strength and honesty of so many. Hope is all we have really xx

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