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.
