Shirley

My husband's Nana died on Tuesday. She was Minnie's (little) Big Nana, my Shirley and Mummy to her daughters. She had been a wife. She was a friend to everyone. She was a nurse and a teacher. She was a delight. She was wonderful company. She was funny and smart and nothing got past her. She loved candied ginger. She was not a big fan of chocolate. She was sweet and genuine and entertaining. She hated cooking, She didn't drive. She had travelled the world. She was well read. She knitted a little. She loved tea. She loved crime fiction and hated romance novels. She loved the Impressionists and a good film.

She will be missed by everyone for ever.

9 months

Yesterday Minnie was telling me about a story that they were discussing at pre-school. It was about a little fairy named Alice. Alice wanted to be a permanent fairy, not a part time fairy. She didn't know how to fly but becoming a permanent fairy meant she would learn.

Little Alice would learn how to fly.

I think, perhaps in the world of a 3 year old's and magic and fairies, that is what happened 9 months ago...

perfect

From a beautiful friend on the other side of the world. Thank you. Just perfect.

meet...

Molly. Molly is our puppy, a giant lumbering 20 week old Golden Retriever puppy. Inspired by meeting Buddy, I thought I would introduce her to you all.

Although I had wanted another dog for many years (my darling Tippy died when I was 18), the journey to find Molly really began the day Alice died. I came home from hospital with an overwhelming need to have another baby. Right then. That minute. I spent hours on the computer that night reading stories of other baby lost mama's and crying. Crying and trying to breath.

Late in the night, my wandering mind led me to thinking about a dog. Some how I ended up at a Golden Retriever breeders website looking at her beautiful dogs. We had decided years ago that we would one day get a Golden Retriever - the lovable family dog. I wrote to the breeder and asked about puppies. The breeder replied the next day stating that her dog Katie ('Button's and Bows') was planning to have puppies in the following January. I almost fell over when I read that the dog was called 'Buttons'. Like it was meant to be. In my hysterical state, I told the breeder the story of our Alice Buttons. In turn she told me about her baby that died at 17 weeks. 15 years ago. And she told me she knew how I was feeling. And she really did. Not like the people telling you they know how you feel when you know they have no idea.

So we kept in contact. She often wrote to ask how I was doing. And she wrote to tell me that her son's friend lost her baby. Her precious baby died at 21 weeks. They were devastated. And we knew how she felt...

Molly was born after a difficult birth. I fell in love when we got the first photo. She can to live with us in March. A handful. But a delight.

Of course she is not a baby. Nothing can ever replace Alice. Not a hundred puppies or a hundred babies.

But she makes us smile as she steals the 10th shoe or another pair of knickers. As she runs off with the loaf of bread or as she offers up her warm tummy for a rub.

the things that are said

When a baby dies we know that people say the oddest things. Sometimes with good intention and mostly without thinking.

Of all the things that have been said to us, I wonder why people say how sorry they are about Alice's death and then follow it with something along the lines of 'there will be plenty more babies for you one day.'

Will there?

I wonder?

Would you say to your friend on hearing of the death of her husband 'there will be another husband for you one day.' Or when one of your best friends dies would you say to her fiancee, as you stand there outside her now silent ICU room, 'there will be other fiancee one day...'

I don't think you would. Correction, I know you wouldn't because you now know what to say when some one dies. I guess that's one 'good' thing that has come out of this mess.

People die all the time. Its not a new thing. Its a terribly sad thing. It will happen to us all. But why are people still so crap at dealing with it? I know its scary. I know its devastating. But I can talk about it. And I will and I do.

Perhaps if only we talked about it a bit more, people would know what to say. And more importantly, what not to say.

waiting and wishing...

Autumn is here. Cool nights and sunny afternoons. The leaves are starting to turn and fall from the peach tree. We are waiting in suspense to see the leaves on the Japanese maple become golden and orange and red. Waiting to see what grows and changes in this garden at the Blue House.

These days we always seem to be waiting for something. Waiting for anniversaries. Waiting to feel happier. Waiting for some one to say the right thing. Waiting for my husband to come home from his many trips abroad. Waiting for people to finally say how sorry they are that this has happened. Waiting to stop being so angry at people who have said nothing, not one word about Alice dying.

Wishing for all to be right in the world.

Minnie and I were playing in the garden a couple of days ago. Just mucking about with the puppy and doing some digging in the flower beds. Enjoying the afternoon. She stopped playing and said 'Mummy, I wish for Alice Buttons to come back.'

So do I.

nothing to say...

I guess I am feeling like I have nothing to say. For the moment. Of course I have things to say but maybe just not the words to put down here.

I know that this blog is about this part of my life, the grieving, lonely and so desperately sad part of my life. But, like you all I have another part too. The part in which I smile and laugh and sometimes have a glass of wine. And I have a big part in which I have a 3 year old who loves to talk about the anatomy of the ear, the skeletal system and who this week will not dress in anything appropriate for the weather. In this other life we have a 12 week old Golden Retriever puppy. But, I know that this place is not about that.

So for a while I think I need to be in that other part of my life. I will still be around, here for my dear friends and reading your blogs. Sometimes writing about my sweet Alice. I will be here hoping that the lost mama will email back and tell me how she is.

Once you are in this club or community or 'family',' the one that no-one ever wanted to join, you are in it for life. I know that we are all here, for each other, for the long haul. For all the days. For all the crap bits that have been and for all the great bits to come.