I'm getting swept up in wistful thoughts again. Wishing you were here this week.
Your little sister and I are getting ready to make a sweet feast on your birthday. You would have turned eight this Friday. I know 8. I remember 8. I felt so old, so grown-up. So ready to take on the world. It felt like an important birthday to me. Seems like such a wholesome number.
I feel a bit cheated this year for the first time in several years. Perhaps because I can remember being 8. And that hope-filled eight year-old in me is confused by all the hurt and pain. I have to nurture her, too, you know. Break this to her very gently. The world hurts. But it is such a beautiful hurt.
Thank you, my darling soul mate, for teaching me that lesson as well.
The other day, I was distracted in the kitchen. Stirring something on the stove, thinking several things at once. Deep in concentration. Out of the corner of my eye, my little girl walked in from the next room and stood a short distance away, saying expectantly, "Mum...." I looked up and said "Yeah?", expecting to see Lolly. She wasn't there. No one was. I stared at the vacant spot, disappointed my head hadn't turned a split second sooner. Lolly was metres away, caught up in her Barbie website. She looked over at me when I spoke and asked me, "What, Mum?" "Oh... nothing," was all I could stammer.
It was you, wasn't it? Well, thanks for coming, anyway! It was so wonderful to glimpse you. It's been too long.
You're there. I know you're there. Here's our song again, just for us. You and me, sweet pea.
You gorgeous, soft, strong, delicate rose. You hold the whole world, the entire Universe, in your soul. I know you do.
I miss you, Boo. I truly do.
Your Earth-bound Mother x
To view more letters to Ellanor and anniversary posts, please click here and scroll down.