Four Years On

You would think four years on we would be prepared, we would know it is coming, we would know what to do, we would know what to expect.

We don’t.

You see the problem is every year is a little different.

No year the pain is the same.

Every year we miss you.

Every year we cry.

But no year is the same.

I can’t say that I will only cry on your birthday.

I can’t say that your Daddy will be the only one that can comfort me.

I can’t even say that I will sleep for the month.

Every year is so different.

This year it isn’t even your birthday for another two days, but its been long.

So so long.

This year your Daddy and I have clashed.

He’s put his barriers up and I have got really angry.

Really angry, angry with the world, angry with life and just so angry.

Angry with him bless him, for no reason but I am just angry.

What world, lets you bury your child?

What world, lets you give birth to your child already stopped breathing?

What world, lets that be ok?

This year more than ever I have been so angry about it.

I am angry about missing you

Not having you here

No laughter, no fighting with your brothers

Just no you

Ever.

I am angry you never wore your clothes,

You never cried,

You never had a cuddle from your brothers

You never smiled

You never laughed

You never played Daddy off against Mummy

You never curled up and fell asleep in our arms

You never had a strop

You never fought with your brothers

You never played with the dogs

You never cuddled a teddy bear

You never climbed into our laps

You never breathed into our necks

You never put your fingers into our fingers

And I am so angry about it

And I hate the world for it

Because where in this world is any of that ok!