It is exactly 21 long, miserable days, to the second, since my precious child stopped breathing.
Category: Family
now and forever
Today at times I felt as if I was suffocating. It felt as if the grief had grabbed me by the throat and was strangling life out of me. My heart physically ached.
In the infamous words of Queen Elizabeth 11 “Grief is the price we pay for love.”
Vic was an only child. I spent the first 16 years of her life dedicated to Vic and only Vic. Vic’s dad and I separated early in our marriage. Even in the years that we were married he studied part-time and only got home from University after 10 at night. Weekends – well that was busy…
When Vic was 16 I married Danie. He became her dad and she embraced the fact that she now had siblings. Danie loved Vic with the same pure unconditional love that she had for her boys. Vic admired, respected and loved Danie for the wonderful dad that he was to her.
Tonight I cannot help but think and remember all the love and nurturing that went into Vic’s life, caring for her, raising her, nursing her when she was sick and taking her to the doctors, teaching her all the things she needed to know to keep her safe in this crazy world, teaching her the art of shopping, watching her get married, fall pregnant – twice, survive 81 abdominal surgeries, fighting for her life every single day. I loved the mother that Vic was. Caring and nurturing.
Tonight I remember Vic’s trademark – getting dressed in clothes every day before the boys came home from school, waking up to see them off to school every morning, arranging a party if she had one ounce of strength left! Vic appreciated seeing the light of day, getting out of bed, seeing the faces of her children. Every day she breathed was a day that mattered to her. Every day she used to make memories with her sons, family and friends.
Every day was one more than she had the day before.
She loved driving her little car. (Vic was a terrible driver!). Vic was the take-out queen. She LOVED take-outs! The last meal she ate was a bit of a Steers hamburger….
Vic was a good, honest, compassionate, caring person who loved loyally and deeply! She was strong-willed and fought for what she wanted. She did not tolerate disloyalty in any form.
Vic toured Egypt in a wheelchair and with a cane! Her biggest wish was to attend Jon-Daniel’s honours evening (4 days before she died) and to travel to Italy.
Vic was brave! She NEVER complained. She accepted that pain was part of her life; that being ill was her life. She seldom questioned the cards she was dealt. She accepted her life stoically.
I KNOW how hard it was for Vic to get out of bed. I know how easy it would have been for her to curl up and die very early in her life. She held on to life until the bitter end because giving up was not an option!
I thought I was well prepared for this period in my life. I prayed so long that God would release her tortured little body from the hell she lived every day. I spent years waiting and wondering how it will be. I have been told that I, of all people, should have been prepared for her death. After all I lived with my child’s terminal diagnosis for 10 years.
The short and the tall of the matter is that there is no way to be prepared. Researching the stages of death, the grieving process and even preparing her memorial service’s PowerPoint Presentation, in anticipation, could not prepare me for the pain that struck the second that my child died..
When I heard Vic’s breathing change I knew she was going. I knew that within minutes my child would be dead… Yet in the end, her death was still a terrible shock to me. How did it happen so quickly?
How do I go on?
Just as there are only some people we can really talk to about our children while they are alive, it seems that there are only a few people we can talk to about them once they have died.
When you lose a child you lose so much more that you may have been prepared to lose. I have lost my identity as a mom. I am no longer a Mommy. I may be a back-up mom to four wonderful young people who love me dearly, unconditionally and deeply but I am no longer a “real Mommy”. Mother’s Day will come and go…The four kids will celebrate the women who gave birth to them. The boys will not have a mom to buy a gift for and I will not have a child to wish me. I do know everyone will try very hard to make it easier for me. But Vic will not be here to wish me a happy Mother’s Day.
I have a hole in my heart. My heart physically aches. I want to die.
Tonight, 21 days after my baby girl’s death I remember a love and bond that was beyond description. I will continue to breathe; I will honour my promises to my child; I will bring up her beautiful boys; I will cherish her memories; I will grieve for my child. She was worthy of my love – she is worthy of my tears.
Sweetie I love you now and forever.
My Mom is a Survivor
This poem may have been written by my precious Vic….
She used to worry so about me surviving her death. Our domestic helper has worked for me for the past 18 years. Bettie is part of the family. Over the years we have shared tears for our children…
Bettie went on her annual leave on the 18th of December 2012. She tells me that Vic asked her to keep an eye on me, after her passing, as she would not see Bettie again…
Vic knew she was dying. I knew she was dying. I prayed for her to die! Why is it so hard now. I want to scream my anger and pain…I want to lash out at someone and just punch them…
Bettie returned just in time for Vic’s memorial service.
| My Mom is a Survivor My mom is a survivor, or so I’ve heard it said. But I can hear her crying when all others are in bed. I watch her lay awake at night. and go to hold her hand. She doesn’t know I’m with her to help her understand. But like the sands upon a beach that never wash away… I watch over my surviving mom who thinks of me each day. She wears a smile for others, a smile of disguise. But through Heaven’s open door, I see tears flowing from her eyes. My mom tries to cope with my death, to keep my memory alive. But anyone who knows her knows it’s her way to survive. As I watch over my surviving mom through Heaven’s open door… I try to tell her that Angel protect me forevermore. I know that doesn’t help her, or ease the burdens she bears. So if you get a chance, call to her And show her that you care. For no matter what she feels, my surviving mom has a broken heart that time won’t ever heal. ~K. D’Ormeaux |
Vic’s pearls
Today I wore Vic’s pearls and perfume.
Her favourite perfume, Beautiful – Estee Lauder, reacts differently to my skin but I could smell “her smell” on me the whole day.
My meetings went well. I am happy with the outcome. It is as if my soul is removed from my body – I feel as if I am looking in from the outside. I see and hear a confident, poised person talking in a matter of fact tone of voice. I hear myself asking intelligent questions and yet it is a shell sitting there.
No-one sees my sadness and grief.
I miss Vic more and more as each day passes by. I am starting to realise that Vic is truly never coming home! The house is big and empty!
I miss being Mommy
I so desperately need to articulate my pain and yet I cannot. Words are inadequate and empty. There are not enough adjectives in the english language to describe my indescribable pain and longing for my precious child. Yet, my cyberfriend Judy has articulated my emotions pretty accurately. So in the absence of my own words I am posting Judy’s email to me.
Thank you Judy. Your words do help. What a horrible area to be experienced in – the world of grief….
Judy is right. I just want my child to be with me. I miss her more than I ever imagined I would. The void is like a never-ending well of despair. I miss being a grandmother and I miss being a Mommy….I am only a back-up mother now. An empty vessel.
Thank you all for your love and support.
Tersia,
I am not telling you that I know how you feel. I cannot know. Grief was so isolating and lonely that even when I had people caring about me, I remember my mind screaming that I would give anything to have my child back! It was such a horror. I could not concentrate upon anything. I could not read a single paragraph and know what I had just read. I could not sleep. I did not want to be alive anymore.
You are so supported – I see message after message flying across cyberspace to hug you. I see a lot of messages telling you to stay strong. I think what is typical for being a caregiver is the constant suppression of emotion. You were Vic’s caregiver for decades. You learned how it was important for you to be strong. I see how concerned you are about staying strong for everyone around you. I remember when I decided I wasn’t able to be strong anymore.
So staying strong might pose a conflict for you. At some point, all of your emotions might start to surface. It is terrifying. I was tired of hearing how my child’s suffering was over. Inside I screamed, “Why did my child ever have to suffer!!?” That was the beginning of my feeling very angry. Anger was a difficult place to be in, but it is a stage of grief. Men and woman grieve very differently, too. Navigating that was more than I could handle, so I retreated to be with other grieving mothers.
I’m wondering if my words are helpful. I guess I just want you to know that you are on a road that you will survive. You know that. Life will never be the same. You know that. Some people cannot enter the doorway of grief. They succumb to it. You have entered the doorway and are plunging ahead into the darkness. It hurts so much!
Love, Judy
it is 14 days today
It is exactly 14 days, to the second, that my precious child died.
I miss you Angle Child!
Today I attended my first serious business meeting in almost three months. I have really neglected my business. Fortunately there was the Christmas recess, so it was not too bad. The series of very important meetings scheduled for the week of the 13th of January was pushed back to the first week in February once I realized that Vic was dying.
I dreaded seeing my (all male) colleagues today. I have known some of them for 25 years and they all knew of Vic’s precarious health.
I sat in my car outside the building and took deep breaths. These guys have never known me to show emotion. I have been stoic throughout Vic’s illness, many operations and setbacks. I was petrified that I would not be able to contain my grief!
Lots of hugs and pats on the back dispersed with the sympathies…a hushed silence followed me into the boardroom. With a couple of minutes to spare before the start of the meeting the guys decided to go smoke.
“It must be a relief for you to not have the responsibility of a sick child any more…” the one said through a cloud of smoke…..
“Yes” said another. “It has been many years”….
I did not have to dignify the insensitive remarks with a response as one of the female directors came out and hugged me. “I have no words for you” she said.
We went into the board room and took our seats. Being our first meeting of the year the normal New Year pleasantries was exchanged. I coped beautifully.
The meeting began and as soon as I started speaking I could hear a quiver in my voice! I was mortified! I shut up as quickly as possible and spent a couple of minutes trying to compose myself without drawing any attention to myself. Breathe in through my abdomen …exhale! Breathe in – exhale… My hands were shaking so I clutched my pen tightly! I put my hands on the boardroom table to steady them.
For years I have NEVER switched off my cell phone in case Vic needed me. If I was away from home (or even when I was home) I would fall asleep in with my phone in my hand. 24/7 my phone was on.
In a way it was liberating switching my phone off when the meeting started.
When I got home this afternoon I sat reading through my old BBM messages from Vic.
“Vomiting again”
“Can I phone you Mommy?”
“Mommy may I have morphine? I am so sore!”
“Still vomiting”
“When will you be home Mommy?”
Tonight the boys went to their dad for dinner. Danie and I popped in at a friend whose daughter-in-law was paralysed in a motorbike accident on the 8th of December. Her three beautiful granddaughters seem a little bewildered. Their mommy is in rehab and their daddy is staying with her 24/7. My friend became a substitute mommy for the girls. I have become a substitute mom to the boys again.
It was strange going to dinner – just the two of us.
Last night I covered schoolbooks… tomorrow morning I will take Jon-Daniel to the orthodontist to have his braces removed. Vic desperately wanted to live for the “event”. I hope she will be there in spirit. Tomorrow afternoon Jared and I will go and make an appointment for our motorbike learner licenses!
I am battling to contain my grief. I am trying to find the time to research “teenage grief”. How do we know how to treat grieving teenage boys? What if we make mistakes? What if we fail Vic and her boys? I fear I am not spending enough time with the boys.
Life is a mess.
I miss you angel child!
OCVCC – Day three
It is day 3 of OCVCC (Operation Clean-out Vic’s Clothing Cupboards.) Today was unbearable.
Day one I packed up Vic’s clothing I did not like. That is the sexy stuff that showed far too much cleavage. I was forever saying “Vic – Your boobs are showing! Cover yourself!” or “Boob alert – the boys can see….” I know I was stupid but in my mind’s eye I always saw that little girl who needed to be protected from the world and it was difficult to see the adult, sensual young woman…
Day 2 was the “Fat clothes” day. There was not too much of that although Vic was overweight from time to time. The Addison’s cortisone treatment played absolute havoc with her weight.
Day 3 – today, was unbearable. It was the clothes that she liked and wore that had to be packed. As I was folding her little T-Shirts my tears dripped on the cotton. I held her favourite clothing items against my face and tried to smell her on them. I could see exactly how each item fitted her disease ravaged little body. I could hear her say “Don’t I look fat?”
I cried when I packed four drawers of pyjamas. There were dress-like nightgowns for after abdominal operations when nothing could touch her abdomen; three-quarter pants with T-shirts for good days; long pants with T-shirts for when she was cold and of course the stuff she never wore…the sexy stuff. I picked up the silky stuff and I knew that they were worn seldom if ever. We should be able to sell these quite easily in our second-hand Hospice shop…
The boys made up their memory boxes on Monday night. I started with wonderful intentions…I too would have a small memory box. I already have two large cardboard boxes plus my memory box filled with precious memories.
As I wept into Vic’s clothes I decided that there is no rush. I do not have to give the clothes to Hospice immediately. I will keep it all in storage until I am ready to part with it.
Never again will I see my precious Vic wearing any of it.
Every handbag I picked up had been cleaned out properly with the exception of a tube of lipstick. Every single handbag had lipstick in it!
Jon-Daniel has started moving into Vic’s room. It is the 2nd largest bedroom in the house with the nicest bathroom. Yesterday we moved two single beds in and put Vic’s bedroom furniture in storage. Tomorrow we will move the lounge suite into storage. The dining room suite has been sold and delivered today.
All Vic’s earthly possessions have been moved as if she has never existed.
The lounge will become a games room with a pool and table tennis tables. The dining room we will convert into a dedicated study and computer games room. We will furnish the rooms with contemporary furniture.
In my heart I know Vic would approve the changes. She would HATE the fact that her furniture is in storage. I feel like a grave digging weasel but I am complying with her final wishes.
My Vic was a little squirrel! She accumulated STUFF. Vic was a compulsive shopper. In December, knowing that she was in the final stretch of her journey, Vic bought new clothes… Some of it she never got to wear. But it brought her joy buying it.
This weekend I will tackle the other cupboards. The cupboards that contain all tax and warranty related documents going back to 2001…. All neatly filed in plastic sleeves… I will keep the boys school files that she so lovingly kept up to date. Every drawing, school report, newsletter filed per boy by year… When they leave home one day and have kids of their own (that they will moan at for not studying….) I will hand my great-grandchildren their dad’s reports.
There are tons of papers to dispose of! There are boxes of educational toys and games from when the boys were toddlers; thousands of photos and piles of albums; ribbons from her childhood; diaries and journals; love letters from Vaughn, her first love; get better cards, birthday cards and goodness alone knows what else.
In the weeks before her death Vic occasionally said “Oh Mommy, promise me you won’t get angry with me when you clear out my cupboards…” If only she knew how many tears I have shed clearing out her cupboards.
I must confess I have always had a memory box with Vic’s first little outfit ever, her first school uniform, all her report cards, a lock of her baby hair… I will add to this box the lock of Vic’s hair that Esther cut after she had died.
Never gone away…
I have received countless beautiful messages of encouragement, love, compassion and caring on my blog. Vic read my blog every day. The last couple of blogs I deleted because even I could read the despair in my words. Vic was in emotional anguish. She kept saying “Mommy, I don’t want to die”” or “Mommy, I am so scared”. She would wake up and cry with fear…
I have not replied to all the messages, but will systematically work my way through it. I did read the messages of encouragement and support to Vic. Right up until the end…. Vic loved the support we received.
It may come as a shock, but I am actually a very private person and allow very few people close to me. Through my blog people have come close to me, reached out and touched my hand and heart and I thank you for it! Vic often said she wanted to write and thank you all for your love and support. Sadly she never got to do it.
Over the past 8 months I have laughed and cried with you as you have laughed and cried with me. Some of you have written Vic beautiful poems and others have dedicated songs.
Thank you so much for your loving concern. For allowing us to enter your lives; for your encouragement and support. I shall continue to blog our survival journey.
Judy Unger http://myjourneysinsight.com/2013/01/28/never-gone-away/ has on a regular basis written me encouraging emails and shared her beautiful songs with us. I would like to share this special lady’s one email with you.
Jan 22, 2013
Hi Tersia,
I am continuing to write to you. You have entered the awful hole. You are now a member of the bereaved mother’s club. No one wants to join this club.
I read your post. The numbness is very bizarre. What purpose is there left to living – where did she go? I remember it all.
I continue to compose and sing. I was stunned when I wrote and recorded my new song “Angel in the Sky” just two weeks ago. Never has such a beautiful song come out of the sky to bless me. It is many years along for me – so I can sing about my angel with sweetness and without pain. I dream of when that time will come for you. For now, close your eyes and think of Angelic Vicky holding you tight.”
This is Judy’s latest song that she dedicated to her son who died 18 years ago. It is crystal clear that 18 years down the line Judy still mourns her son… I know in another 18 years I will still be mourning my baby girl’s passing. Thank you dear Judy for sharing your beautiful song with us.
NEVER GONE AWAY Copyright 2011 by Judy Unger I know that soon you will leave me how will I ever say goodbye? there’s so much you’ve left me I’ll try hard not to cry and when you’ve left you’ll still be with me in all the songs I’ll long to play every time I see a smile you’ll have never gone away It always seems to me, that whenever I was down your hand was the one holding mine but your fingers I’ll let go of now; how I long to hold on you’ll touch so many others when you’re gone I know that soon you will leave me how will I ever say goodbye? there’s so much you’ve left me I’ll try hard not to cry when you’ve left you’ll still be with me in all the songs I’ll long to play every time I see a smile you’ll have never gone away Sometimes I will stop and wonder you’ll know what I am feeling I’ll hear your laughter in my mind I’ll remember all our special moments They’ll run by with a tear You’ll leave, but in my heart, you’re still here And I know that soon you will leave me how will I ever say goodbye? there’s so much you’ve left me I’ll try hard not to cry when you’ve left you’ll still be with me in all the songs I’ll long to play every time I see a smile you’ll have never gone away you’ll have never gone away http://myjourneysinsight.com/2013/01/28/never-gone-away/ –Jan. 23, 2013
Hi Tersia,
Tersia, what can I say? I read your post. It is unbearable. There are no words. I think every bereaved parent suffers the helplessness of being unable to save his or her baby. Vic is your baby. The horror of her ending will eventually fade, but your opera has begun.
The amputation of a soul – there are no words for it. You will emerge from the fog, you will get through this – and you have already been through so much already. You had goodbyes – something that many bereaved parents long for. But with the goodbyes came god-awful suffering and trauma. How can you let go of that?
I think of the lyrics from my “Angel” song – “My lovely light – just not in sight.” Vic will always light your way now. She is not in sight – but that doesn’t mean she isn’t with you.
I know Vic is with me. I still smell her, sense her presence and find notes of love everywhere. Vic will always be the light of my life. I love and miss you Angel Child!!!
Mommy’s home!
It is now 10 days since my beautiful child’s body came to rest… I cannot believe it is already 10 days and on the other hand I am amazed that it is only 10days….
Vic came home today. She was delivered in a little wooden box. The plaque simply reads “VICKY BRUCE 31.8.1974 – 18.1.2013”
The boys walked in after archery and Jon-Daniel said “Mommy’s home!”
Tonight the boys went through Vic’s cupboards to make up memory boxes. We laughed as we shared precious memories. The boys were selective in what they chose. Jared wanted one of Vic’s favourite Egypt T-shirts and Jon-Daniel her favourite track suit top… A lipstick and her driver’s licence; a brush each….
We opened her safe and in Vicky style everything was labeled and marked….
Her first pearls that she received as a little girl from my brother and his wife had a little note in the box…”Received from Johan and Henda when I was their bridesmaid. I would like them to have it back. I love you more than words. Johan you were always my hero! Henda you are amazing”
A note attached to two sets of earrings “For my boys from Mommy. These were from you”
Pink and white pearls labeled – “Received from Mommy and Daddy. Thank you for always loving me so much. I give these back to you now.”
My heart is shattered. I want to die.
WHEN TOMORROW STARTS WITHOUT ME…
When tomorrow starts without me, and I’m not there to see.
If the sun should rise and find your eyes, all filled with tears for me.
I wish so much you wouldn’t cry, the way you did today,
While thinking of the many things we never got to say.
I know how much you love me, as much as I love you..
And each time that you think of me, I know you’ll miss me too..
But when tomorrow starts without me, Please try to understand..
An angel came and called my name and took me by the hand,
It seemed my place was ready – In Heaven far above,
and that I’d have to leave behind, those things I dearly love..
But as I turned to walk away, a tear fell from my eye.
For all of life, I’d always thought, I didn’t want to die.
I had so much to live for, so much yet to do,
It seemed almost impossible, that I was leaving you..
I thought of all the yesterdays, the good ones and the bad..
I thought of all the love we shared, and how much fun we had..
If I could relive yesterday, just even for a while,
I’d say goodbye, then kiss you ‘til I saw that special smile..
But then I fully realized, that it could never be,
‘Cause emptiness and memories, would take the place of me.
And when I thought of all those things, I might miss come tomorrow,
I thought of you, and when I did, my heart was filled with sorrow. .
But when I walked through Heaven’s gates, I felt so much at home.
When God looked down and smiled at me, From His great & golden throne,
He said, “This is eternity, and all I’ve promised you.
Today your life on Earth is past, but here it starts anew.
I promise no tomorrow, but today will always last,
and since each day is the same day, there’s no longing for the past. .
But you have been so faithful, so trusting and so true,
Though there were some times you did some things you shouldn’t do. .
But you have been forgiven, and now at last you’re free,
So come and take me by the hand, and share my life with me..”
So when tomorrow starts without me, don’t think we’re far apart,
for every time you think of me, I’ll be right there – in your Heart..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=hoPaHxUWA5o#at=16
THIS WAS THE LAST SONG PLAYED BEFORE THE SERVICE STARTED.
I RECEIVED MY SIGN!
Tuesday morning arrived. It had been a very long weekend. I battled with the eulogy and my broken heart. Everybody kept looking at me to make sure I was okay… Patting my hand and saying: “It is going to be okay!”
It is never going to be okay. Nothing can erase my child’s suffering and death from my mind. In time I suppose I will learn to live with the pain and longing, but it is NOT GOING TO BE FLIPPEN OKAY!!!!! EVER!!!
I have slept in Vic’s bed since her death to “demystify” her room. I also feel close to her. I can smell her in her pillow; I spray her perfume before I go to sleep.
After Vic passed and before the undertakers arrived I lay next to her lifeless little body. I spoke to her non-stop.
“Sweetie, If your soul is hovering in this room I want a clear sign from you that you are still with me…”
I woke early and prepared for the lousiest day of my life. I started chewing “Rescue” tablets. It was the only way I was going to get through the memorial service without making an absolute fool of myself. The boys looked so handsome! Their mom would have been very proud of her boys!
At the church the hearse was parked at the front door. Vic was already inside the church. A huge photo was on an easel and at least a hundred candles were burning around the casket. The flowers were beautiful. Vic would have approved.
I sat in the pew with tears running down my face. I could not believe that my baby girl was lying in that casket! That I would never see her, never hold her again, never hear her voice again. Sitting in church I could not remember her pain and suffering only my own.
The service was beautiful! The minister spoke from his heart and shared his memories of a brave young woman with almost 200 people. He said that not many people are ever prepared for death but Vic was to such an extent that she had planned her entire memorial service. He wiped a tear from his eyes where he spoke of Vic’s journey.
As instructed by Vic we sang “Amazing Grace” and “How great Art Thou”. I managed to sing – not a pretty sound though! My voice was all over! Vic would have giggled and told me that I sound like my mom!
I did the eulogy with the two boys standing on either side of me. At times my voice wavered and at times even I could hear how strong I sounded.
And then it was time to carry the coffin to the hearse for the FINAL part of Vic’s journey. I could hear the boys quietly sobbing as we carried Vic on her final journey. I felt my face contort with grief and tears.
The coffin was so light! I remember thinking “I wonder if Vic is really in the coffin….”
We lay single roses on the coffin. The two boys’ red roses and the rest of us pink…. Kari and Simone (Vic’s nieces) came up and stroked the coffin. They sobbed uncontrollably. I could hear people crying.
The minister said a final prayer, and it was time for Vic to leave.
The undertaker solemnly hugged me and closed the rear door of the hearse. It opened…. He pushed the coffin into position and relocked the locking mechanism. He closed the door again. Once again the door closed and opened!
“Vic is here and she is telling us she is going no where!” I said
People laughed nervously….
The undertaker unlocked the lock and pushed the coffin into position again. The undertaker locked the locking mechanism for the 3rd time. He closed the door. This time it remained closed. Vic had gotten her message through to me…I received my sign.
My precious child is still with me.
Vic has left home for the last time…
For a long time after Vic had breathed her last breath I lay next to her. I touched her face and hugged her close to me. Something I could not do in life as I may have fractured a bone or two. Everybody left me alone with Vic. I was so grateful for that precious time with my angel child.
I washed Vic and dressed her in her favourite pyjamas. It was so difficult trying to dress her limp body. Although I knew it did not matter anymore I was scared I would hurt her. Years of conditioning I suppose. I was shocked to see that a large part of her body had already discoloured. Her right hand shoulder, her back and the top of her legs were black and blue. When I washed her little body at 7am that morning, a mere 3.5 hours earlier, only her little toes had started discolouring… Her back was still so warm from the fever that had racked her body. Her hands, feet and face were cold to the touch.
I brushed her beautiful hair.
Then I realised that the boys could not come home until Vic had been “removed”. I phoned Siza to pronounce Vic and the undertakers and requested that they send their people to come and fetch my child. I lay with her for a further 30 minutes. I held her tight and cried for her. I just wanted to die.
Siza, arrived…. She was so matter of fact about Vic’s passing. She put cotton wool in my child’s mouth because Vic’s jaw had relaxed! I wish I never saw that!
Just before 1pm the undertakers arrived. I was torn. I did not want her to go but I could see that her beautiful soul had left her body. It was no longer my beautiful baby girl who lay in that bed. In death Vic looked like a stranger… yet I felt that if Vic left that room she would forever be gone. Strange…..
The undertakers walked into Vic’s room. They were so smartly dressed in dark suits, white shirts and red ties.
They hugged me and said “When you are ready… We can wait”.
I remember thinking “I look so ugly when I cry. These strangers can see me cry!”. I nodded and they wheeled in a gurney type “bed”.
They meticulously folded up the outer cover to reveal a plastic sheet. They lowered the gurney to the same level as Vic’s bed and took her from my arms…
Someone said “Be careful. She breaks bones easily…”
They lay Vic on this horrible plastic sheet and covered her in it. I wanted to die. I still want to die just thinking of it. My beautiful baby girl, who only deserved Egyptian cotton, wrapped in hard plastic!! They quickly replaced the cover and zipped it close. I think my sobs were driving them mad.
Vic looked so tiny on that darn gurney! Tiny and dead!!
Minutes after one my baby girl left home for the last time. Never again would she grace us with her presence. Never again would she shuffle down the passage, never again would we hear her laughter or her cries of pain.
Vic left home – forever.
The mention of my child’s name
The mention of my child’s name
by Kim Knapp
The mention of my child’s name
May bring tears to my eyes,
But it never fails to bring
Music to my ears.
If you are really my friend,
Let me hear the beautiful music of her name.
It soothes my broken heart
And sings to my soul.
~~~~author unknown
http://www.thefuneralsite.com/ResourceCenters/Poetry_and_Quotes/Children.html
Vic's Final Journey 