It’s the little things

It’s been a long time since I last posted on Fighting Genghis mainly because I haven’t really had a great deal to say that isn’t repetitive of my earlier musings. Life carries on. It must. Two little children are an incredibly powerful reason to get out of bed in the morning. Without them I’m not entirely sure what the point would be. That’s not meant to be melodramatic or a plea for help, it’s merely a statement of fact.

Yes of course friends and family give one a purpose. And doubtless, without the creation, establishment and running of a charity in Rosie’s memory (more of that in the coming weeks) I’d have very much more spare time on my hands. With that spare time though, who knows what I would do.

Walking along with one of my good friends last week he asked me how I am doing. Not an unusual question, and one that usually elicits the answer, “Oh you know, I’m getting on”. That’s my way of saying “I don’t have the energy to get into a deep discussion”. However on this occasion I chose to answer truthfully. People say that time is a great healer. I’m not sure it is really. Time helps with readjusting to loss, but it doesn’t really heal anything. The hole left behind by Rosie isn’t ever going to heal. The gap left in my children’s lives won’t ever be filled.

Of course no longer having my wife with me by my side has left a huge gaping hole. Not having her around has reminded me of some small but important things she did for us. The other day Natalie needed a hot water bottle to soothe her tummy ache, but I couldn’t remember where Rosie kept it. Another day, Natalie asked me what names Rosie and I had considered for her before she was born. I couldn’t remember. Rosie made sure I never needed to remember things, because she always remembered…everything. Are you starting to get the picture? Now, no longer having that amazing person with us, I feel doubly sad. What else have I forgotten?

I’m still telling Natalie stories about her mummy every night. In an odd sort of way it’s my attempt to sear the stories into my memory. But also it’s important that Natalie has memories, her own and others’, to keep Rosie close by.

Joey on the other hand is a different kettle of fish. His memories are already on the wane. He remembers broad things like mummy’s hair, her smile, her eyes. But details already seem to have gone. My hope is that between us we are able to restore plenty of memories about Rosie for Joey to draw on as he grows up.

In the meantime my life is entirely about the children. But then which parent doesn’t single-mindedly concentrate on their children?

Elliot

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