It’s been five years almost to the last moments I felt you move. I can’t remember at what stage you last moved. Was it late evening on the 25th of September 2014 or in the early hours of the morning on the 26th of September? That time line has become a blur.
I remember the days after your death trying to desperately remember when it was last that you moved. Would it have made a difference?
Mummy is sick. She’s got the flu. Not a great anniversary week I must say.. I have plans. But instead I am cooped up inside in bed. Tired. There’s something in me that is broken 💔. I feel like I am just going through that horrible grieving journey again after you died. How I wish i could turn the clock back and somehow have you here with me.
Someone told me the fifth year anniversary of losing a child is the hardest. Or one of the hardest. It is the marker of time moving forward. The reality of you never coming back. Was I really that bad of a Mummy that you could not live? Did I really fail you?
Mum and Dad have offered to do something with me on your birthday. Not sure what we plan to do. I just wish you could come back. That’s all I really want. I have been unbelievably grumpy and irritable with everyone. Pushing those that are closest to me away. In a warped sense protecting myself from being hurt again. I don’t trust like i used to. I am wary of people..
I hope to one day see you again. I really miss you my dear son.
Love you lots xxxxx