Main image by Ed Robertson on Unsplash
30th March 2022
Sweet Julia Grace
And now you are 18. Even though you are also forever 15.
I gave birth to you 18 years ago today, 30th March 2004, at 5 am.
This morning I was awake at that time, thinking of you. Always missing you.
Still not understanding your absence.
Still unable to reconcile the memories and photos I have of you, where the happy, joyous, vital you so utterly outweighs the devastated version of you.
I have had some messages this morning from people who are thinking of me because they know it is your birthday. And I always need to remind myself that they too miss you. They too have this enormous loss in their lives – and have a forever big hole in their hearts and memories.
I love you sweetheart.
So very much.
Always.
I hope you are hanging out with dad, and Edward, doing what you do best, being creative and funny and just a little bit nuts.
Mumma
The Well of Grief by David Whyte
Those who will not slip beneath
the still surface on the well of grief,
turning down through its black water
to the place we cannot breathe,
will never know the source from which we drink,
the secret water, cold and clear,
nor find in the darkness glimmering,
the small round coins,
thrown by those who wished for something else.
