10 months today my Belsie – by Simone
My darling Belsie
Its been 10 whole months since you left us, and I still think of that day, almost obsessively. Playing it over and over again in my head, reliving each moment, tormenting myself a lot of the time.
I think of your beautiful smiling little face, the way rays of sunshine would literally beam from it, and I wonder how you would look now. I see your little friends progressing, developing, growing and changing and it makes me so very sad that I will never get to experience that with you. Its this deep, deep sadness that can never be extinguished. In some ways your brother is becoming easier, he is communicating so so well now, is less frustrated and can occupy himself for periods of time without me having to watch him constantly. And while this is wonderful and fills me with so much pride, the “quietness and calmness” (its all relative!) makes me sad too, as I know how much less calm it would be if you were with us, and I yearn for that. He has also been asking a lot about his brother and sister and where they are, generally unhappy with the answer I give. He asked all about my tattoos, what they are, and kissed each one so sweetly. He is also becoming so aware of the family unit now, making play-doh families of eggs and wanting a mommy, and daddy egg as well as a brother and sister egg. It makes me so very very heartsore that this is no longer his reality and how much he is missing out on in terms of brother/sister love and companionship.
We were away last week – me, your dad and your brother – and we had a lovely relaxing time, real food for the soul. But coming back home is always so so hard. A fresh reminder that you are not with us, the emptiness of your bedroom like a cavernous void, your smiling face peering out at me from the photographs on our walls. I still have so much fear surrounding Murray and that something might happen to him. Your brother is an early bird, just like your dad, and never ever sleeps past 6am (that’s a late start for us!). The other morning he was still sleeping at 6.30am! Instead of enjoying the quiet time and getting ready for work, I sat there obsessing about whether something was wrong, if he was okay, until I eventually crept into his room to check on him (waking him in the process of course). Rationally I knew that everything was okay, but emotionally I couldn’t keep my fear at bay.
My Belsie, my heart is heavy and sad, I miss you so very very much, a real physical yearning so deep its impossible to explain.
With all my love my sweet angel child
Thanks for sharing these intimate feelings. I often wonder if these tragedies havent made you feel like Murray is even more vupnerable than ever. This answered it. Makes perfect sense but hard for you.
I have never met you but I think of you and your precious family all the time. It takes such courage to pen into words the unrelenting pain you have endured. And as a mother my heart aches for you. I pray for you often and ask God that he comfort you and that you would feel tiny rays of sunshine in your soul, that someday soon you will wake up being able to breath and not feel that overwhelming sense of sadness that has colored every corner of your heart. Trusting for continued strength and courage.
Thank you for reaching out to us Chantelle and for your beautiful words and prayers.