A misty morning with light rain greeted me when I woke…. I felt broken. Twelve years today since I hugged my boy and heard him laugh and saw his smile. The story books just don’t tell the truth, death is confronting, and grief continues.
Coffee on the hill this morning in the swirling clouds, and gentle rain, was a quiet relief and a good place to let tears fall in silence.
Loud music in my car dumbed down my grief and my memories on repeat.
As I made my way to Brisbane, I drove past the hospital to see it encircled in purple. The Jacaranda trees in full bloom were a beautiful sight but made me cry. When we lived in Cape Town, we had beautiful Jacarandas in our street that created a radiant purple carpet.
Twelve years ago, when we eventually said our goodbyes and left the hospital, I never noticed the sea of purple surrounding us. So deep was my despair and trying to navigate my way out of the carpark for the Mountain took all my strength and focus. Today was different.
I looked and saw and cried.
Twelve years ago, I sat on Aidan’s hospital bed and talked, made plans and said I love you. It wasn’t supposed to be a goodbye. Later he closed his eyes, and our hearts broke.
I know he was tired, many months (years) of chemo and radiation, injections and scans, bloods and consultations, and in-between fun and laughter, baking and good food, vows and weddings and plans for the future.
I should have been able to watch him grow and be happy but how fortunate was I that I did watch him, grieve, grow and be happy. That was Aidan. My son who loved and was loved, and who made the most of each day as best he could… always making future plans… with a smile and a hug.
To say I miss Aidan is an understatement. When Laila died, we knew each other’s grief, he helped distract me, loved me and showed me how to laugh again. We painted, played music, baked and cooked, walked in forests and hugged trees, and lived life with sadness and grief.
This time its different and I feel broken in parts, such utter sadness that just overflows as it finds its way to the surface when I’m not taking notice. It just is and has to be accepted.
The morning birds and wallabies, coffee, cat and cows make me smile, and give me a reason to start my day. The beautiful gardens I’m surrounded by, bring me joy as do my family.
Aleisha said, “kiss our boy on the wind, I have hugs for you”.
I did that this morning. Held his tree and sent my love on its way and then went to receive my hugs. It was a special day filled with wonderful family and friends.
I’m broken but still whole.
Aidan 20.10.2020
XOX the mother
