Your birthdays comes and passes but we do not celebrate them since you are not around anymore. Privies years I used to cry myself throu them in desperately greif.
Nowadays I enjoy my happiest memories. That much I own you.
Every time I want to I can close my eyes and see your laughing eyes before me. My hands remember every details of your perfect little body and I still can feel your tiny arms around me. My whole body remembers you .The tenderness of your softly skin and these unique smell of yours .Like flowers mixed with jasmine soap and fully grown winter apples.
I mourning you whit a sadness so desparatly that it feels close to anger.
I do not just mourning over my little girl.
I miss the young women you never was allowed too be. The happy mother, the mature woman. The old lady sitting in the sun watching her grandchildren playing while se was complain over her bad knee. That old woman the time had not allowed me to meet but she had still remembered me than and had been a part of me. None of thoose persons was allowed to live.
You took them all with you when you died.
I use to believe that somewhere out there is a young man who you was meant to fall in love with. Some other woman gives birth to his children :
Those who should have been yours and mine too as a grandmother.
And he does not even know about you.
That you once where.
He may had made you happy?
Just like your father made me.
But somewhere it may be another man out there who should have broken your hart?
Well it will just not be. We, your daddy and I are still here and as long as we live a big part of
you lives in our memories and in our hearts. I am scared to be the last one of us to go cause when your daddy dies there are no one left for me to remember you together whit. They all are dead now.
I sometimes meet parents who have lost their children and promoted them into angels.
“Our little angel child” they said with a special kind of voice.
It makes me so angry.
I understand their desperate need for some comfort but for me I do not like to fool myself.
Hell no you wanted to be an angel!
You loved and enjoyed live and you lost it in a tragic and unnecessarily accident. Thath what not was allowed to happen happened and I do my time of my punishment every single day the rest of my life and I will have to pay on my gilt as long as I can breath. MY loss is unbelievably hard but yours was complete.
You loosed the only live you ever had a chance to live.
If I had belived in a Gud I never would have forgiven him for that.
Your are shore no angel but a little box whith ashes inside my closet.
Times goes on and on : Faster and faster or so it seems.
Your birthdays comes and passes whit the same pain in my heart cause time did not mend every thing even if we tries to believe it does.
But you get used to that little sting in the heart and learn to live with it.
Every year you get a little more piece of resignation.
We have Christmas parties and midsummer fiestas. Your sisters and brother whit their children fills the house with life and laughter, love and joy and make us a very happy family. Sometimes the whole house is like a sparkling fiesta. Christmas tree and a lot of presents . Children and pets are playing everywhere.
Still I never miss you as much as then.