There is so much I wish I could say to you today.
I want to watch you open your presents, I want to talk about the fun we had this summer, how your first week at secondary school went and what you want for your birthday breakfast.
I want to talk about the years that have gone-by too quickly, how fast you’ve grown and the memories we’ve built.
I want to talk about your friend’s, the fun you’ve had and the trouble you cause.
I want to talk about the holidays we’ve been on, when you learnt to swim and ride a bike.
I want to talk about our family, I wish I could see you sitting with your sisters this morning. They would have loved a big brother.
I want to hold you and tell you that I loved you from the moment I saw you. At which point you’d probably shrug me off because 12 year old boys aren’t into soppy mums.
I want so many things for you, and for me, on your birthday. Things we can never have.
Today is the day my arms feel the most empty and I feel the weight of sadness. It’s OK to be sad sometimes isn’t it? I used to fight it and would plan your birthday so that it meant something. A trip somewhere beautiful, release a balloon, involve your sisters, make it special and make every action count. It didn’t work though did it? – nothing ever lessened the sting. So I gave it all up and now we spend the day together, just you and me.
The way that it was when we started out on this journey 12 years (+ 9 months) ago, just you and me. It was just the two of us when you died. I don’t even know what time it was but you were warm inside me and loved – I don’t know why you died but I would have moved the earth to save you, if only I’d known.
This is our day, in all its ugliness and with all its love. I’ll take a walk and light a candle. I’ll cry, be angry and sad.
Tomorrow I will return to the business of living but for today, Happy Birthday Louis, I am with you.
Love Mummy xx