The Heart-Shaped Puddle

There is a spot on the road in front of our house that, when it rains, creates a heart-shaped puddle.

When I sit in Eoghan's room, in the corner where Patrick's cot would have stood, working from home like so many people have been doing this year, I see that puddle. I see the reflection of the trees in it. I saw the colourful autumn leafs float in and dance around it as they fell. I saw nature hunkering down for another winter as a challenging year draws to a close. 

Even though the presence of that puddle means it either is or has been raining, I like seeing it there. The fact that I can see it from what used to be Patrick's room, makes me feel closer to him. It's comforting. 

Time has been relentlessly pushing on. In a few weeks, it will have been a decade since that day. So much has happened since but this still feels like it was only yesterday. While not as raw, that MISS is there every day - taking my breath away some days. The sense of "What just happened?" is near enough the same as then. 

Over the past 10 years, there have been more losses along the way. There have been many happy times. We've welcomed Eoghan soon after Patrick died. Our rainbow, who helped me through that first year. We brought home Caoilfhionn almost 6 years later. A rainbow in her own right - a feisty one, as it turns out. We both turned 40.

This year, lock-down meant Patrick's birthday came and went without us being able visit his grave. 

This year has been one of the strangest in a long time. Much of what makes our experience of life living, has been put on hold. Plans were canceled....sometimes multiple times. It's been tough. Mentally especially as a lot of what sustains my own mental health I found myself unable to do. However, I re-discovered things that I have not been able to do a lot of in the last years...I sketched, I listened to some audio-books and I found I really enjoy watching the local bird population attack our feeder and see what sort of birds we get in our garden. 

January 2021 is a huge milestone. One of many. 

10 years living without Patrick. 10 years of missing. 10 years wondering what he would look like now. 10 years wondering what sort of kid he would be. Would he like school? What interests would he have?

10 years living with a piece of me missing. The longest 10 years gone in the blink of an eye...

So as I look out at my heart-shaped puddle, I remember my little curly haired boy and this special bond he had with the cat. Today and always.

Keeping his memory alive against the tide of time.

Miss you lots, Sproggy-pops.

"Love is eternal, it never ends, it transforms."

This card arrived in the post today from the people at SUDC UK. Sunday April 5th would have been Patrick's 11th birthday. We had plans. Pat and Eoghan were supposed to be at a family thing in Sweden for a long weekend and I had wanted to take the baby girl down to Kerry. Go for a mini stroll, visit the sheep farm, check in on Kerry and Clare and pay their adoption fee.

2020 had other plans. Covid19 restrictions meant that we were not able to do any of those things. In fact, we were not even able to visit his grave on this birthday as it is further than 2km away from our home. Given the current situation and so many people dying without a loved one to hold their hand and family burying loved ones without the normal community support of wakes and funerals, it's what needed to be done and a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things.

Were we sad about it? Absolutely...We like to make the day special. We asked one of Patrick's uncles to say HI to him at the graveyard and did what we always do also:

Everybody in this house, living or dead, gets a nicely set up breakfast table. Cake, flowers, gifts, cards. We lit his candle and ate cake for breakfast. We thought of him. We downloaded both Frozen AND Frozen 2 and watched both movies. We listened to the kids singing along to the lyrics at the top of their voices. I imagined Patrick doing some eye-rolling at that type of movie as an 11 year old. Maybe a smile at his siblings's enthusiasm singing along. Most certainly his fingers in his ears as they hit (missed!) the high notes.

What helped in no small part to make the day even more special were the many messages of remembrance and support from friends and family. Memories of Patrick they shared and birthday wishes in heaven for him. It is so important for us to see he is remembered and missed. 

💓Thank you. These messages *really* matter to us - you may never know just how much. 💓

2020 has been a strange year from the start. Weather warnings kept us inside for most of January and the start of February. A surprise pregnancy that we did not expect and that once more did not last past 9 weeks. Another tiny being lost and a grief to go with it that knocked me for six. Even more so when I realised our statistics in the reproductive department - having to repeat it a number of times to various doctors and nurses.

6th pregnancy. 3 live births. 1 sudden unexplained death in childhood at 22 months. 3 miscarriages. 2 alive and well at home (thank God!).

Why? Why not? Why us? Why not us? I don't know. All I did know what I needed time out to heal and regroup. 

I am thankful I was able to do that well before all the Covid 19 restrictions came in. I was able to do what I know soothes my soul, gives me peace and helps recharge my batteries.

Hiking. I got into the car, drove somewhere I knew would make my heart sing and walked. By myself. Coffee and picnic in my backpack. 

Each time, I came back refreshed and a little stronger. The solitude, time to be alone in my thoughts and in my self was hugely important in piecing myself back together. I took time to ground myself by letting my senses tell me what I could see, hear, feel and smell. The wonderful views. The wind in the trees, sound of waves or songs of birds. The sunshine on my face or wind or even hail. The wet forest ground...Being part of nature. I think I understand why "forest bathing" is something that is prescribed in some parts of the world. Getting out into nature is my best medicine. Sitting on the top of Torc Mountain for a good 40 minutes taking in scenery with a cup of coffee in my hand was utter bliss. I miss it now but I am grateful for the chances I got to experience it then.

Wherever our path leads us. Whether it is rocky or smooth or we're faced with the occasional river crossing. Whether it will bring another living member to this household or not. We walk on with hope. 

"Love is eternal, it never ends, it transforms."

My Hikes

Lahinch

Cliff Walk Cliffs of Moher

Millennium Cross

Moylussa

Knockfierna

Ballybunion Cliff Walk

Torc Mountain

Old Kenmare Road

Dear Sproggy - 2020

These past 12 months have been tough. For me probably the toughest since you died. Which I find difficult to understand. Perhaps though it is not about understanding. Perhaps it is about just sitting with it. Allowing it. 

You have been on my mind a lot. I've been feeling that *miss* more acutely. And the hurt and confusion. Almost as strongly as the day you died.

I guess there is no rhyme or reason to the path grief takes. We just have to follow it, without you, as best we can. 

Today we went on a really long hike along the stunning Old Kenmare Road in the Kerry National Park. 23 km with just deer, mountain goats and birds for company for most of it. Across roads, bogs, crossing rivers and streams and admiring waterfalls. My trotters are in bits now but I really liked the solitude and being present in the sights and sounds of the place. Concentrating on where to place my foot and not topple into the bog or off the bridge into the stream.

We were visited by a few little robins along the way, also. One settled down on a branch right beside Daddy. Maybe that was you saying HI to us. I'd like to think it was. Walking with us - unseen but felt in our hearts. 

You'd be proud of your little brother doing so well in his Christmas math test.You'd laugh at your little sisters antic and her offers of cake and tea from her toy kitchen. You'd look out for both of them, being the almost 11 year old big brother. You'd argue with them and roll your eyes at us. 

It's still difficult to accept that all of this got taken away from you (and us). 

9 years today, our world was still intact. We were an innocent and happy little family of three. And we knew we were lucky - all in all. I remember saying this to Daddy. Roof over our heads, healthy little boy, jobs...things were ok for us. But oh how fickle life can be.

Today, we remembered you as we hiked along that Old Kenmare Road. We saw this 19th century graffiti etched into a rockface - presumably someone from a Tipperary Regiment - dated 1815. 

James O (?) Neill(?) left his mark on the world. His name won't be forgotten. We will make sure yours won't either.

Miss you lots, Sproggy-pops

Like this tree, we try to stand strong against the wind of adversity. For you, for us, for your brother and sister.