I have been talking a lot about death this week. And to me, that is natural now. I do not talk about death in a morbid and obsessive way, as some might think. Death pops up in my conversations. In my blog posts. On my Facebook. And since my son is dead, I do not mind talking about the subject. It is my way of keeping my son alive, paradoxical as it may sound. This week, Lexi, another beautiful bereaved mummy, agreed to publish Georgie’s story on her baby loss blog. Of course, death was part of the story, as it is part of every baby loss story on her website. This week, I had lunch with an amazing woman who had spent some of her youth nursing abandoned Romanian AIDS babies not back to health, as she would have wished but onto death. And of course, we talked about pain and death and the great privilege of looking after precious souls so close to their passing into eternity hour and the love we feel …