LIFE CHEZ DEE

Well I don’t know if it’s a coincidence, or whether my words were read and absorbed, but my comments regarding being unprepared for our advent course sessions, and how this felt very strange to me, seem to have been listened to by someone (maybe God was listening after all), because I received both an email and a letter with the details of the content of what we would be covering over the next two weeks on the advent course. So I’d better have a read through and prepare … Th

I didn’t sleep last night. Happy that we’d had such a lovely, albeit very cold and wet, day out in Manchester to celebrate Justin’s birthday, and to see my big boy, who is loving University life, but goodness how I miss him. We ate, drank, chatted, and wandered and it was such a lovely day together. Such a bittersweet time. The birthday celebrations for Justin, and yet the memories of 5 years ago are so painful. 5th December is a date etched into my heart. The day five yea

We’ve been out out. Doesn’t happen too often these days. Yes we go out, as a family, with the boys, we go out for lunch or coffees, but rarely do we get dressed up and go out … just the two of us … and we even stayed out all night! I was both delighted and privileged to be invited to a dinner dance at Derby County Football Club, by Steve Dayman, founder of Meningitis Now. Right from the day Edward died, Steve has been there for us. Steve founded Meningitis Now (or Meningitis

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

Tonight was the penultimate session in the Lent course, and this evening we were exploring fellowship, and I thought about how nice it was to be fellowshipping again this evening with our usual little group of people. I often glance through the course notes prior to the sessions beginning, and this evening’s notes began with “it takes a village to raise a child”, and went on to talk of the importance of supportive relationships to healthy personal development. This is also tr

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 awoke this morning earlier than usual, probably nudged by Edward, who even though is always on my mind, was even more so today … if that was even possible. 5th December 2016 – only four years ago; feeling so long ago, and yet only like yesterday; each and every detail remembered. Vivid thoughts, memories and feelings wash over me, flood me, drown me. Without much warning, I could feel the tears in my eyes welling up and starting to pour down my face and onto my pillow as I

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

Those of you who follow my page may recall quite some time ago, I wrote a piece about *Edward and Raphael. Raphael’s bench is behind Edward’s bench, both of which sit underneath the magnificent oak tree in the cemetery. Today we went to the cemetery to visit Edward again. It was nice to be able to drive in, it has been so long since we’ve been able to do this as the gates have been closed to cars (unless attending a funeral) since lockdown. Although it is only a short walk up

I’ve been doing loads of sorting out lately … sorting, clearing, filing, tidying. There’s still lots more of gardening sorting to be done for me to feel accomplished, but given the inclement weather of late I’ve turned my attentions to sorting inside the house. I’ve bundles of stuff ready for the charity shop and I’ve given lots away via a local freecycle site … and it’s rather liberating that decluttering is well underway. I wouldn’t describe ourselves as hoarders by any str

It's been a strange few weeks, and Easter is no exception. No build up to the school holidays as Oliver has been schooled at home; holidays too have been cancelled or postponed; no jetting off somewhere, or packing of bags as we load up the car for a long motorway journey to our holiday cottage; no day trips planned for walks, museums, city visits, or visits to National Trust houses and gardens that we love so much. Visits to all these beautiful places put on hold, added to

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