Today you will leave us for good, baby boy. For three days we fooled ourselves into believing you were still here with us because your beautiful body was still in our midst. We were able to hold hands, pat your cheek and kiss your forehead. We were able to give you cuddles and wash you with our tears. But today, oh baby, today, your body will leave us too.
Your sister is angry with you again. She understands very well the finality that today will bring and doesn’t want to accept it. She didn’t want to say goodbye. She didn’t want to kiss your cheek. She is mad with you, for leaving her, sweetheart. She loved you sooo much, as you know. She didn’t get to spend the time she deserved with you. You were stuck in a hospital room for two months, away from her. She had to steal glances through the door and kisses when no one was looking. The days in the hospice were wonderful for her. The first thing she said every morning, as soon as she opened her eyes was “Let’s go and see Georgie, mummy!” Even after you left your body, she still had this need. To come and see you. To be with you. Draw you pictures. Give you flowers.
But that will be no more from today.
Tomorrow morning we will wake up in our house, empty of you. I am sorry, baba boo, but I had to ask your daddy to put your things away for now. I can’t look at them yet. But the house is now so very empty. Hollow. Quiet.
How will we fill the quietness, sweet boy?
And we know you are well. We know your reality is astounding and incomprehensible for us here. We know you are running free with Katie and Matilda Mae and Oscar and Ben and Abigail. We know Jesus has welcomed you in as an honoured guest and has kept you close ever since you left us. That He is your comfort and your portion now.
But somehow, somehow today this knowledge does not bring any comfort. Today we would like to find a way to bring you back. To press a magic button and delete the past two months. Wake up from the whole experice like from a bad, bad nightmare and be able to tickle you and see you smile. Feed you baby food. Take you for walks. Cuddle up on the sofa. Sing lullabies to you.
Sweet boy, baba boo, baby blue, lovey, forgive your mummy and her selfishness. She just misses you so, that is all. She will be well. One day. Don’t let my sorrow make you sad where you are.
You go now and play. Fly high, wee bird, fly free and way up high!
Loving you. Now and forever more.