my dearest Sebby,
It has been a while since I wrote to you. Even though with the passing of time, there is not a day that goes by where I don’t think about you. Is that strange? You’re never really far from my thoughts.
I know how often I say in my letters to you that I wonder how you look like… Whether you would look like me or someone else in the family. Wondering what you would be doing now if you were here with me. The ache will always be there. March is the month where your book got published a year ago. March 18th 2017. Also, March is the half way point of the year. Well for you anyways. On March 29th you will be 3.5 years old. I no longer count the days, weeks, month by month, that you are gone from me. Its gone into more of a half year thing rather than a monthly thing. Or a day to day thing.
In the beginning when you died, my grief was measured in minutes, hours, days, weeks, months. I couldn’t imagine being 3.5 years down this journey. The pain then was too difficult to cope with to be able to think about a future without you. I often wonder how I got through those dark early days, and as I look back – it was God who held me up. In my weakness it was Father who carried me through the rubble of endless grief. It makes me sad that I can’t use your name out loud every day. That no-one ever wants to talk about you to me, and ask me the journey I had to embark on 3.5 years ago without you. There are days where it is more painful than others. Other days I cope with it, and I don’t miss you as much. But there is always an ache. There is always a cloud of questions above my head where I wonder what it would be like to have you hear by my side.
A couple of weeks ago I went to a butterfly garden, and I was overcome with so much emotion. Deep emotion, and it is the only peace I have truly known. A place where I can just watch the butterflies be free. I imagine that is what you would be like. You, your sisters and cousin David. That you would all be free. Fluttering away without a care in the world. That is what I wanted for you so badly. For your life. To be free. To not have a care in the world.
There are days where I still feel guilty for praying this simple prayer: dear Lord, please let my son have the best daddy in the world. It is a good prayer. I prayed it because I believed that you deserved a mummy and a daddy. And that you shouldn’t be without a dad. I always questioned afterwards why I prayed that prayer. And why God answered it the way he did. Did God really think that I was an incompetent mum? That I wasn’t able to be your mum that he had to answer it in such a way? I try not to think of these things anymore. But sometimes they come up.
In a few days I am leaving Berlin. Another chapter closes, and a new one opens. I am going to miss the people I live with. They have been gems. Honestly, one of the nicest people I know. They would have loved you. You would have loved them. Such wonderful people. I am going to travel for a bit, before I meander my way to Ireland. Who knows what the Lord has in store for me over there? I am just trusting him. After all life is a journey of faith, and trust, and knowing that Father is in control of your life. That things will work out even if it doesn’t always work out the way you want it to work out for yourself. Though Berlin was a challenge for me, I don’t think I can say I regret it. I learnt a lot about myself during that time. And I am thankful for the people I met on this lonely journey.
Just this morning after my migraine attack yesterday – I wish you were here beside me. Walking beside me. Walking on water with me. Doing stuff together. I really miss you Sebastian, and often wish that you did not have to die. Often wish that you were still alive, and walking beside me. But what is the point in wishing? It doesn’t bring you back. It only fuels frustration. So, I am learning to let go of wishing. I am learning to seek God. Learning to embrace the future. Learning to live, learning to be at peace, and not worry too much about what the future holds.
I still dream of being a mum one day. Maybe I will be. Still dream of wanting a brother or sister for you one day. But will I ever be a mum again? That’s a question that can only be answered in the future.
If you were here today, I would make you pancakes for breakfast. And kiss you and tickle you till you laughed so much. I love you darling boy. I love you very much and I miss you very much. Every night I look at the stars and think of you and your sisters.
Know that I carry you in my heart wherever I go.
With so much love,