Today is Tom's 3rd Angel Anniversary.
Three years since I have felt his soft little hands in mine, squeezing gently and showing me, subtly, that he shared a bond with me that would be unbroken in spirit forever. Three years since I have breathed in the smell of his hair. Three years since I have looked into the biggest brown eyes - brown like Minstrels - and seen a twinkle in them despite everything...
Yes, I cut and paste from last years post. My thoughts are much the same.
I could go on forever.
Three years since I listened to a rare giggle or saw a precious smile. Three years since he's given me a wobble - his way of showing he was really enjoying something, sort of a happy shudder! We made Wednesdays 'Wobbly Wednesdays' with the idea being to do a lot of wobbling on those days.
Three years sinced I coaxed his left hand into a dynamic lycra splint to prevent his wrist from curling inwards or his feet into AFO's or his back into a spinal jacket. Three years since I have carefully measured out 25 doses of medicine per day and planned my day around giving them at the correct time.
The good with the not-so-good.
I sit here, at my laptop, wondering if the time has come to empty my medicine cupboard of his medicine - it's all out of date, not that that matters. Or maybe sort out the drawer next to his bed and throw away the bits of unused dressings and masks and syringes. Maybe take down the drip-stand next to his bed? I don't know, the time still doesn't feel right, but will it ever? Sometimes I sit in his wardrobe just so I can feel his clothes around me. Another tear splashes on my cheek. Will they ever dry up?
On Saturday I attended the Annual Service of Remembrance at Great Ormond Street Hospital. The chaplain read out this quote from a bereaved mum: 'You do not get over losing a child; you just learn to behave in public.' I'd say that hits the nail on the head perfectly.
Today we are going to the zoo again. We decided last year that this is what we want to do on this day.
A couple of months ago I decided to treat myself to my own angel wings.
It wasn't as if I needed a permanant reminder, but it feels good to have one.
I had the star done last year. An eight-pointed star symbolises unity and completeness.
I'm not a big fan of tattoos. But that one? Great stuff. It feels kind of weird NOT needing to do all those things - the therapy, the medicine, etc - doesn't it? Do you ever have a sudden wave of panic when you think you have forgotten to administer/think about/record/treat? I still have those some times.
ReplyDeleteYou're doing good, you know. You really are.
I am thinking of you.x Have a glorious outing at the zoo.
ReplyDeleteI hope your day aat the zoo brings you reasons to smile.
ReplyDeleteThinking of you all today. Thank you for sharing such a beautiful post - both heartwarming and sad. Your tattoo is a wonderful symbol of remembrance, and a tribute to Tom, too.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy the zoo, I hope you find some sunshine today.
Diana xxx
A sad but beautiful post Tracy. Hope you have a lovely time at the zoo. x
ReplyDeleteSilent hugs.
ReplyDeleteThinking of you. K x
ReplyDeleteThinking of you, I hope today brings you new happy memories, to mix with the old xxx
ReplyDeleteYou have been in my thoughts all day. Wishing you moments of peace in the year ahead.
ReplyDeleteThinking of you, Tracy.
ReplyDeleteThinking of you so much and wishing you comfort.
ReplyDeleteI love the tattoos btw ( I may have a little one or two myself!)
Only just seen this Tracy. I hope yesterday was ok for you, and that you found some happy memories to be with. If you don't feel it's 'time' to take down those things ... then it's not time. (((hugs)))
ReplyDeleteTake care. x
I have just discovered your blog. What a beautifully expressed and moving post. Wishing you comfort.
ReplyDeletea hug from me too.
ReplyDelete