The funeral yesterday was beautiful. A fitting celebration of a beautiful life.
Somehow I managed to keep it together, of course I cried but I managed to hold back those gut wrenching sobs until I was stood in privacy at Livvy’s grave.
This place of finality brings me so much comfort at times it’s my place of remembrance.
Though to be honest it was at the gathering afterwards that I really struggled. As I sat there drinking my coffee I was struck again with the thought “the world moves on”.
As I watched my dear friends move between the mourners I realised that their reality, their normal has changed.
Nothing will ever be as it was.
I write that as if I’m in a place of acceptance but that is so not true.
Four years on I still haven’t found my new normal, I don’t think I ever will.
Normal belonged with our daughters, I think they took it to heaven with them.
I was taken back to four years ago when I was at Livvy’s funeral and how I was wishing it to never end.
The moment that I left that place I was leaving my daughter behind. It was the finality of final.
After the gathering we returned to our home so full of her things but so empty of her.
Our life had been filled with the caring, the loving of this beautiful incredible special needs child, now the empty hours seemed endless before me.
My girls will joke this was the time I started ironing their knickers but in all honesty they speak the truth. I tried earnestly to fill those empty hours.
I’m told by my children that at times I was suffocating, that I needed to be with them every moment of the day. They understood but they were young and had a life to live, school to attend, friends to play with.
I used to find myself caught up in unexpected rage after hearing a parent speak harshly to a child in the street. The “why did I ever have you” comment spoken not in truth but frustration tore at my soul. Alan dragging me away when I just wanted to scream “every moment is precious” “never let your child feel unloved”.
How does the world move on without my beautiful daughter.
I wanted to demand that everyone stood still and allow time just to freeze right there.
Of course that wasn’t going to happen.
Platitudes were given in love but were driving me insane.
“No more suffering”
“No more pain”
As if suffering and pain was all Livvy’s life amounted too. What about
“No more laughing”
“No more dancing”
“No more mischevious behaviour”
Livvy was so much more that what her syndrome was, pray tell me people could see that.
Then the anger left me and the darkness came it was all I could see when somewhere in the corner there was a ray of light.
The more I read the words of the bible the more my heart was filled with something I had never dared dream of again.
One day I would hold my beautiful girl again.
That this life isn’t the one we should hold on to.
Eternity is ours.
“So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13 ESV
Love is eternal
One thought on “Light overthrowing the darkness”
Yes, I never wanted Wednesday to end, it was beautiful and so perfect and everyone said how brave we were. But yesterday reality hit, no more precious days with Rachel, it was the day ‘normal’ started. I would do anything not to have a normal life. I now have to try and work out how life carries out without my beautiful daughter next to me holding hands xx