Too close to see

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Too close to see

With age came missed milestones. His failure to develop started to become more obvious to us and we gradually began to see visions of his future. By now I knew that he would one day die, but I still couldn’t see his death. When readmitted to hospital that first time, I never imagined that I would go home without him. I didn’t. The second readmission was the same. So when I took him for a third time, I packed his supplies including his food and milk and drove him to emergency. By now I knew what to do.

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Peripheral

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Peripheral

In my peripheral vision, I can sometimes see a fuzzy outline. A silhouette of a chubby baby that should be here too. It’s easy to become distracted by that ghost. I try not to get too lost in that because I know that he’s just in my head and there are so many other directions that I’m pulled towards. But sometimes it’s nice to have a ghost for company when I’m going through the motions.

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Of surf and seasons

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Of surf and seasons

I lie in bed and watch in contented silence as the clock turns over to midnight, two cherished living children asleep in my arms, and a gaping wound just as big as ever but which curiously few can still see. The ocean spits me back out and I heave a sigh of relief. Another round of grief's fury, survived. Eight months to recover before it begins again anew.

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