LIFE CHEZ DEE

I sat today, as I would normally do, to write a piece. I’d got a few ideas of where my writing would take me today, but as I opened the computer, there was the face of my beautiful boy, Edward. I’d posted on social media about it being bereaved parents’ month, and written a quote from another grieving mother about what was normal after your child dies. "Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horro

I lost my voice recently. Not physically, but it could just as easily have been. There was so much I was thinking about, experiencing, processing that I needed to write about, but for one reason or another, I felt unable to put those thoughts, feelings and emotions into my writing, or at least writing I was able to publish. I was totally lost. I know I don’t usually hold back; I’m more than aware that my writing is raw and from the heart, but I knew that the raw emotions I wa

It’s April already, and with this comes the thoughts, the build up, the feeling which permeates every bit of my being, knowing that we’re in the days approaching Edward’s birthday. What I should be doing is hiding the presents I’ve bought him, finalising party arrangements, putting aside cards which arrive through the letterbox so that all these surprises are there waiting for him to excitedly open when he gets up in the morning. But that is far from reality now. I will get u

This probably isn’t the best time for me to be writing this piece. I’m angry. I’ve totally had it with people who say the most offensive things to me. It happens so often, far too often quite frankly. I’d actually just been talking with friends about some of the horrid remarks which have been said to me these last few years, and I don’t know if this conversation tempted fate, but later the same afternoon … wham! Another one was hurled at me, quite consciously and quite pointe

I have read, read, read and read so many pieces, articles, writings, thoughts and experiences of others’ grief. Those who are grieving parents, grandparents, distant relatives, friends, siblings, children, babies (those who were born and lived a short while, those born sleeping, or those lost before they reached term). I’ve probably focussed more on reading about those who have experience of child loss, since my experience of this has been far more overwhelming and debilitati

Losing a child is different to any other loss. My child died, and on every possible imaginable level, that is wrong. The death of a child is not something anyone is prepared for or should ever happen. As a mother, the instinct to protect your child is always there. Not being able to protect your child; or save your child from dying goes against everything that motherhood stands for. This is not the natural order of things, and goes against the normal cycle of life. Watching

I wanted to talk about Edward's place; Edward’s grave. This might seem like a strange subject to talk about, but as this is going round in my mind, and I’m in the habit now of offloading all that stuff, then this is something I need to talk about and share. Edward is buried; I couldn’t bring myself to have Edward cremated. I watched him die. I visited him daily for the two weeks until we buried him. He was beautiful. For me, it felt like I needed to have that vision in my h

How are you? A very simple question. One which is asked all the time; but one which is so difficult to answer at times. One which was almost unbearable to hear, and so unbelievably hard to answer in the days and weeks after losing Edward. It’s a question I hadn’t analysed too much until I was in a position where I felt unable to answer. How are you? It’s said so often, by so many. Just in passing … in the street, in the shops. It’s the question you want people to ask; whilst

So this week has been all about love. How do I feel? I don’t know how to articulate a quick and straightforward answer to that. I wake up on Valentines Day and the first person I think about is Edward. Edward is the first person I think about every day in fact. Edward is ALWAYS in my head the minute I wake, and ALWAYS in my head as I drift off to sleep. My love for Edward is forever. My love for all my children is forever. My love for my children is shown in hugs, kisses and

I have read, read, read and read so many pieces, articles, writings, thoughts and experiences of others’ grief. Those who are grieving parents, grandparents, distant relatives, friends, siblings, children, babies (those who were born and lived a short while, those born sleeping, or those lost before they reached term). I’ve probably focussed more on reading about those who have experience of child loss, since my experience of this has been far more overwhelming and debilitati

I wrote a little piece about Edward for @MyBump2Baby in response to Carla's appeal for real stories. Please read, RT or share and give me a follow. More of my blogs on #life #love and #loss .. and much more ... can be found on http://elizabethdee.me https://www.mybump2baby.com/child-loss-and-grief-by-elizabeth-dee/ Losing a child is different to any other loss. My child died, and on every possible imaginable level, that is wrong. The death of a child is not something anyo

It’s been rather a cultured weekend of arts and music. When I use the term cultured here I simply refer to how I interpret the use of this phrase. If someone were to be described as cultured I’d immediately assume a knowledgeable and learned person, of good taste and having a love of arts and music. I’m well aware that there is far more to the meaning of cultured but when I write I’m assuming that this is the way it will be interpreted, but as I lecture the boys in how they s

Valentine’s Day … What does that day say to me? Well it evokes so many emotions for me. The first thing which comes to mind for me, and most people I’d guess, is love. Love for a husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend. The person you fancy who gets the card with the question mark. Should it be made obvious who sent it, or should it be left for them to wonder … The latter probably being a recipe for upset, and thankfully (she says with much relief) something I’ve never had to ex

I think if I had to sum up all the things which have helped, and still help me through difficult days, I’d have to say time … and I don’t really mean that in the sense of quantity; or in the sense of measurable or quantifiable; I don’t mean a timescale of one date to another … when I say time I refer to this in terms of time doing what I needed to do, and being who I needed to be … time out; time to think; time to process; time to be; time taken willingly; and time which was

Another year over, a new one about to begin; a time for reflection …of the year, of the memories of years gone by, of one’s self. I sit and think about all that this year has brought, all I’ve achieved … and not achieved. The old friends I still have alongside me; friends who have drifted; new friends who have come into my life. It feels to me as though this has been a significant year … not necessarily in significant event worthy terms; but in a sense of change. A change in

The most wonderful time of the year! … or is it? I can’t imagine it’s that wonderful for the person who is homeless, or the person without food, or money to pay for rent, or heating, or those who are unable to afford buying presents for their family. It won’t be a wonderful time for those ill in hospital, or those ill at home. Those who work will probably have had more wonderful times, as too will those who are alone or who have lost loved ones. December will never be the sam

5th December is a date etched well and truly in my psyche. Three years ago was probably the most horrific and traumatic day I have ever, ever had, or ever will have. The day when my boy, my beautiful, funny, cheeky, bundle of energy, became very ill; seriously ill; and didn’t get better. 5th December 2016 was the day that Edward died. Today I woke up to the most beautiful red sky, obviously Edward hard at work making his presence felt by setting the sky alight on this third a

This weekend I have been sad. Really sad; overwhelmingly sad; so sad I couldn’t even hide the sadness behind a smile, and pretend I was ok. This weekend I have needed to be what I needed to be. I needed to be sad. Every time I’m like this I cannot see beyond it. I can’t rationally analyse why I’m feeling the way I do. I can see everything that’s wrong … in EVERYTHING. My head telling me that I need to stop, I need to take time out … which I do; I sit, and I breathe, and I try

We’ve just spent the day with Meningitis Now at one of their Forever Days, to support families who have been affected by meningitis in some way. The day was held at Alnwick Castle, Northumberland. We knew it was a bit of a trek for us, but given that it was ages since we had been on a support day, and given that we had nothing planned this weekend, we decided to apply to attend the Forever Day, and make a weekend of it. We managed to get a very cheap deal with a Premier Inn n

This weekend, the first ever Ball #forEdward was in full swing. I’ve been sitting today, recovering for a start, from lack of sleep, sore feet, late night, but also looking through so many fabulous photos of the event, and reflecting on what a huge success it was. Many, many months ago, Gary Fox, Oliver’s drum teacher, Head of Schools Music Service in Fylde, and drummer, singer and leader of Switched on Swing, mentioned to me that the band would love to play and support at an