Starry, Starry Nights
Without Prejudice
"This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you "
I love starry starry nights, the song by Don McLean, so did Lauren, my youngest daughter who died at 12 and I think of her every time it plays on the radio.
That and
Sweet Child of Mine
Free Fallin
Patience
Under The Boardwalk
Bimbo by Jim Reeves
Bright Eyes by Simon and Garfunkel
And of course Starry Starry Nights
I see her sitting in front of the T.V. Too close to the screen of course, hated little pink glasses on and I tell her to sit back a bit. She turns to me and smiles and my heart melts. She is so beautiful.
I see her in Bali, chubby bottom disappearing under the water in a moonlight swim and the pool is lit as bright as day.
I see her in the water snorkelling with me and we are as at home in the water as we are in land.
I see her bending over the small boats edge and being sick and Debbie and I trying to cover her bottom with towels as she farts at the same time. Debbie and I trying not to laugh.
I see her with Alena as they bounce a coconut down the outside concrete stairs at the hotel Putri Bali, unsuccessful in ever breaking it.
I see her everywhere.
I see her in twelve year old girls with waterfalls of long shining hair.
I see her in my Grand children, her eyes, her innocence, her beauty.
I never see her in dreams.
I see her in new born babies as she loved babies.
I see her in kittens.
I see her in fun times, sad times, weddings, birthdays and my writing.
She wanted me to write and write and write.
I see her on her last journey in a white coffin and me placing her hated pink glasses on there before she slid away into the ether.
I see her, feel her. Smell her scent but still have to live.
I tuck my memories away.
Someone said, once, it was a long time ago. As if I should be " over it ". To me it is like yesterday and if you scratch my thin skin all the grief will come pouring out, like blood.
But I tuck those memories away and go on living as that is what she would want me to do.
She came in a vision after she died and I was not frightened at all.
She said 4 things
That her Dad and I were never meant to be together, we were on different paths in life. (We had separated then and divorced soon after.)
That she saw Kyle all the time,( my grandson was 2 weeks when she died ) and he was beautiful and we were to rake care of him for her.
That I was going to be fine, better than fine.
And as she left she said,
"Write "
And I replied
"Write, like letters ?"
"No, " she replied.
"Just Write "
It took me 23 years to start writing again. And I thank her every day.
"God Bless the child "
Xxx mum
"This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you "
I love starry starry nights, the song by Don McLean, so did Lauren, my youngest daughter who died at 12 and I think of her every time it plays on the radio.
That and
Sweet Child of Mine
Free Fallin
Patience
Under The Boardwalk
Bimbo by Jim Reeves
Bright Eyes by Simon and Garfunkel
And of course Starry Starry Nights
I see her sitting in front of the T.V. Too close to the screen of course, hated little pink glasses on and I tell her to sit back a bit. She turns to me and smiles and my heart melts. She is so beautiful.
I see her in Bali, chubby bottom disappearing under the water in a moonlight swim and the pool is lit as bright as day.
I see her in the water snorkelling with me and we are as at home in the water as we are in land.
I see her bending over the small boats edge and being sick and Debbie and I trying to cover her bottom with towels as she farts at the same time. Debbie and I trying not to laugh.
I see her with Alena as they bounce a coconut down the outside concrete stairs at the hotel Putri Bali, unsuccessful in ever breaking it.
I see her everywhere.
I see her in twelve year old girls with waterfalls of long shining hair.
I see her in my Grand children, her eyes, her innocence, her beauty.
I never see her in dreams.
I see her in new born babies as she loved babies.
I see her in kittens.
I see her in fun times, sad times, weddings, birthdays and my writing.
She wanted me to write and write and write.
I see her on her last journey in a white coffin and me placing her hated pink glasses on there before she slid away into the ether.
I see her, feel her. Smell her scent but still have to live.
I tuck my memories away.
Someone said, once, it was a long time ago. As if I should be " over it ". To me it is like yesterday and if you scratch my thin skin all the grief will come pouring out, like blood.
But I tuck those memories away and go on living as that is what she would want me to do.
She came in a vision after she died and I was not frightened at all.
She said 4 things
That her Dad and I were never meant to be together, we were on different paths in life. (We had separated then and divorced soon after.)
That she saw Kyle all the time,( my grandson was 2 weeks when she died ) and he was beautiful and we were to rake care of him for her.
That I was going to be fine, better than fine.
And as she left she said,
"Write "
And I replied
"Write, like letters ?"
"No, " she replied.
"Just Write "
It took me 23 years to start writing again. And I thank her every day.
"God Bless the child "
Xxx mum
