Category: Death of a child

This post has been sitting in my Drafts since the 23 of November 2014.  This morning I was told that my grieving is isolating me from the world… So be it.  I lost my child and she deserves to be mourned.  If people cannot cope they must simply just stay out of my life.  I will not invade theirs… So if I offend someone it is tough.  Once you have walked my journey you are welcome to criticise. Remember to hug your children – I never thought Vic would die.  Shit happens.

It is 671 days since Vic died.

I have not blogged in a while. I stopped because I felt too exposed.  People were reading my blog and “using” my emotions against me.  My public grief became a weapon to be used in dealing with me.

I have received a number of emails from some of my blogger friends asking me whether I have started a new blog. I haven’t.  I have missed blogging.

Blogging to me provides me access to a network of people who have experienced the loss of a child. If one has not lost a child you will never understand the pain thereof.  It is grief that no one can begin to understand.  I read other mothers blogs and their words are my words.

We have had a number of milestones.

I have thrown myself into Stepping Stone Hospice. I have grown as a person.  My heart has been broken by the deaths of precious patients’ and the pain of their families.  I have made new friends only to lose them weeks later.  I have stood next to close on a 100 death beds this year.

Jon-Daniel turned 16. Vic left a box of party goods to be used for his 16^th birthday.  I opened the box, for the 1^st time after her death, and found the polystyrene “Happy 16^th birthday” lettering; party poppers, balloons.  Vic was always very set on being fair.  What she did for the one she would do for the other.  She set up Jared’s 16^th birthday party.  She left the same for her baby.…..  A final act of love for her precious son.

There are no further birthday boxes prepared for the boys. She has left 18^th and 21^st birthday gifts; Jon-Daniels confirmation candles and their 21^st keys.  But no further party goods.

On the 17^th of October 2014 Jared attended his Matric Farewell (prom).  Exactly 22 years after Vic’s Matric Farewell.  He wrote on his Facebook that it was hard to be excited about

He was so handsome and his little girlfriend looked beautiful. Vic would have been so proud of her son!  I know that she was there but I also know that Jared would have given anything to have her physically presence….  He would have wanted her to straighten his bow tie and flaff with his hair.  She would have cried and insisted on 100’s of photos.

I vividly remembered Vic’s farewell and how exquisitely beautiful she looked. I remembered how careful I was when I helped her dress because her skin marked so easily and we did not want red marks spoiling the evening for her.  I remembered her and Gia giggling whilst they were getting ready for the Big Event.  I remembered my pride looking at my little princess…   

I slept very badly that evening because I actually remember that his mommy was very hung-over the morning after her farewell…. He arrived home in the early hours of the morning and he was sober! I could not have been prouder.

Now Jared is writing his school exams. I remember how I fought with Vic to study hard and get her marks up.  I remember the frustration of knowing that Vic was not performing to her ability.  She only did enough to pass comfortably. I realized then that all she ever wanted to be was a mommy.  It was hard to accept.  The dreams that I had for her were exactly that – my dreams.

Vic had no ambition to become a doctor or an advocate or even politician. She started thinking up her children’s names when she was 4 or 5 years old.  When she was old enough to draw she “designed” her wedding gown.  It was hard to accept.

Vic and I were so opposite to one another. I am ambitious and driven.  Vic was content to live…

So, here I am on my knees again hoping and praying that Jared’s marks will be good enough for him to gain university entrance. I gave him the letter Vic wrote him…the letter to be given to him just before his final school exams.  I was petrified that it would upset him and affect his mental state adversely.  He was thrilled and quietly said that it was so nice getting a letter from her and being able to read her words.  He said that he missed her little notes… and her hugs.

When I heard his words I felt his pain and loss all over again.

As time passes it is becoming more difficult. Maybe because people are “fed-up” with my grieving.  They are impatient with me and want me to forget and accept.  They become frustrated because I try and find every excuse to mention Vic’s name.  Their empathy has switched to impatience.

And, I don’t care!

My soul is grieving for Vic. The pain has travelled so much further than my heart.  It has filled my body and soul to the core.  I want my child back.  I want to hear her laugh.  I want to see her smile.  I want to feel her hugs.  I want to hear her voice.  I want to be a mommy again.  I want to be a grandmother again.  I want my life back.