Today is the first day that I’m home alone. Paul’s work have been fantastic and have let him work from home but to do his job properly he needs to start going back into the office. I also think it’s important that he starts going into the office for his own sanity, there’s only so much time you can spend within the same four walls. Yesterday marked 8 weeks since Lentil died. It’s almost two months and sometimes I don’t feel like I’m any further on. I have to think back to how I was at the beginning, how swollen my face constantly was from crying, how I stared blankly at nothing. My face isn’t usually puffy any more, I can watch TV, hold a conversation, occasionally leave the house, I can smile, even laugh at times. So I am getting better, physically and emotionally I’m feeling stronger. Still this morning, walking downstairs in an empty house, the silence was deafening. I couldn’t help thinking about how I should be tired because I’ve been kept up all night by my gorgeous boy not because I couldn’t sleep because all I can think of is how much I miss our son. I have to watch TV until I fall asleep or I drive myself mad with thoughts of Lentil, trying to work out what went wrong, everything he’ll never have a chance to do, all the things he’s missing out on.
My parents are coming down later, I’ve told them I don’t need babysitting, unfortunately I’m not sure it’s entirely true. Paul phoned me as soon as he left the house, I wanted to tell him I was fine, to laugh at how overprotective and worried he was but the truth is, I was relieved. I feel like I need constant distraction, the TV isn’t enough, I have to have my phone or iPad at the same time, I switch between the two, not allowing my mind to go to certain dark places. I have a project that I want to start, writing children’s books but I find it impossible to concentrate.
So here I am, feeling sorry for myself when I notice something moving in the garden, when I look out I see that it’s completely full of baby blackbirds. I’m not quite sure why this cheers me up so much but it does. New life, new hope I suppose. We noticed yesterday that the blueberries growing in our garden had disappeared and we were hoping it was birds rather than them just falling off because we’d left it too late to pick them. This morning the mystery is solved as the blackbirds pick the blueberries from the bush.
I love nature, it makes me question less and reassures me that we chose the right place for Lentil. It stops me questioning the meaning of life and makes me realise there is no meaning, the reason that we don’t know the answer is because there isn’t really a question. I’m no more important than the blackbirds in my garden, there’s no great reason for me being here, but I am and I have to make the most of it.
Life is a cycle, I teach the children in my class about the life cycles of butterflies, frogs and chickens, why should mine be any more complicated? I love the idea of energy, water, carbon, everything in a cycle, used in one way and then another. The idea of becoming something new fills me with hope. Tomorrow our tears will be rainbows and Lentil will be a flower, or part of a tree, a ladybird, a spider. He will continue to grow and to change, just in a different way. It doesn’t stop my heart being broken or take away the pain of not being able to hold him but it gives me something to cling to, it gives me hope.