Life Chez Dee Episode #130: Eternal love
I haven’t written anything in ages. I sit here today thinking how much I have to say, and just not knowing where to start, not knowing the words, not knowing how on Earth to articulate my thoughts, my feelings, my utter heartbreak.
I am totally broken. Six years have passed since Edward died, and I remember the day so vividly that I can relive the whole day in every minute and intricate detail, from the sequence of events, to the horror, and devastation of how that day ended. I can remember the conversations I had, I can hear the voices of the many who tried to save Edward’s life, I can see their faces, I can even smell the room. I can replay this day as if I were watching a film. This day never leaves me. And I don’t want this day to leave me, because these are the last moments of being with my boy. This day is as much part of Edward’s life as any other day, and I, as his mum want to be a part of that.
This will make no sense to anyone who has not lost a child. To know, is to feel as I do, and yet even those who are unfortunate enough to know this kind of pain, don’t know. This pain is mine, and mine alone. There are others who feel this kind of pain, but their pain, is not my pain, as mine is not theirs.
Six years ago my world changed forever. Six years ago, I changed forever.
There was my life before Edward died, and my life after Edward died.
I am strong and resilient, and yet I am broken; I have compassion and empathy for others, and yet I am tough on myself. I take comfort in the pride I have for Edward, the memories, and the love I gave and received, as well as the knowing how much Edward is loved and remembered by others, and how much he lives on in the hearts and minds of so many. And yet I miss him terribly, and with an ache which never wanes; there is a permanent void within me. Every cell in my body yearns for Edward to be with me, and yet Edward’s presence, his spirit and his love, fills every cell in my body. His presence is still very much loud and clear. I know my boy will always be in my heart, but he will also be right at my side, forever in my thoughts, and everywhere I go.
I thought I would get through today, and would crash the other side, tomorrow. To say that today has been difficult is an understatement. I have crashed, and I have cried pretty much all day, from the moment I got up this morning. I ache for my boy to be with me still, I have the most beautiful family in Justin and the boys, and yet I live in a constant nightmare without my precious Edward.
This can’t be made right, ever.
I can’t move on, I don’t want to move on. I move, with Edward.
I love life, and yet I could scream at how life is so horrid.
I love the beautiful memories of Edward, and I am heartbroken there are no more to be made.
I love spending time with the family, going places, having fun; and yet there is always the beautiful presence of Edward, and the shadow of his absence.
When I am sad, there is beauty present; when I am happy, sadness is always there.
I am grateful to those who have messaged me, to those who have shared their memories with me, and those who have shared how they are remembering Edward. I have met with a very special lady today, who I trusted to look after Edward, and who I know was sent into my life, as I know Edward was sent into mine. Again, this is hard to explain, and many of you won’t understand this, but those who do, just know.
Of course I have been with my boy today, in fact I have visited him twice – once just myself and Justin, once with Oliver. We have taken Edward some flowers, and we have lit some candles for him. He sent a strange rain cloud, which met us at the cemetery, followed us to his grave, and then stopped; and he sent a robin to sit in the tree as we arranged his beautiful orange roses. It is a beautiful place to sit, so quiet, so still. As we sat I glanced up at the sky, so clear through the branches of the tree, which dominates the place where Edward lies; its branches bowing low to nod above his grave. We sit, and we think, and look at his beautiful name, carved into the white marble. What a beautiful, beautiful, comforting, calm, reflective, sad place to be. We pause for a moment to read the book of remembrance, before coming home. Our second visit to Edward was this evening. His grave was even more beautiful in the dark, with the flames from the candles flickering and dancing in the moonlight. We sat alone, with each other, with our thoughts, and we comforted each other as we wept.
Today, we have made a donation from The Edward Dee Fund to other meningitis charities - £500 to Meningitis Research Foundation, and £500 to Meningitis Now.
Edward was a very special boy, there was something about him, a presence, which is hard to explain, and that presence is still here. I know he is watching, I know he is proud of us all, of his brothers, as we are enormously proud of the boy he was. I feel privileged to have had Edward in our lives for the ten years he was here, and proud that I was his mum. Edward you always were, and are, loved beyond words, and always will be, my beautiful boy, and that love will last for eternity.