Posts tagged “bereavement

Joshua

It was love at first sight. The moment you popped out, the moment I set eyes on you, I was hit by a wave of love that almost knocked me off my feet. Your name escaped from my lips, unbidden. Joshua.

You were three months old when your condition was discovered. When we asked how long you had, the doctors couldn’t answer, according to medical science you shouldn’t even have lived that long.

You spent a lot of time in hospital but you didn’t mind, at least one of us was always with you, even sleeping by your cot. You charmed all the nurses, better with the ladies than your old man, huh?

Your heart specialist would look astonished every time he walked into the room and saw you, astounded that you were alive. You would laugh at him, he was bald with a big beard, and we reckoned you thought he had his face on upsidedown and that was why you thought he was so funny.

You were not like your mum or me, we were excitable people and always rushing around, but you were laid-back and thoughtful, and you could concentrate for far longer than babies are supposed to be able to. You would stare at people’s faces and take your turn when joining in conversations.

You never saw your first Christmas. Maybe we knew and that’s why we opened the presents early. We sat in bed, you in the middle, you got a big chocolate letter J and a pack of coloured felt tip pens. I held them in a bunch and slid them across the paper, making rainbows. Your eye’s were like saucers and your mouth dropped open, it was magic to you. You tried to do it yourself but the temptation to put the pens in your mouth was too much.

You made a lot of friends, for someone who couldn’t speak. You were nine months old and 150 people came to your funeral.

It was love at first sight. The moment you popped out, the moment I set eyes on you, I was hit by a wave of love that almost knocked me off my feet. Your name escaped from my lips, unbidden. Joshua.

A couple of posts I’ve read recently made me think, made me realise that there are one or two things I never write about. I like to shock you and arouse you and make you laugh and ideally, all three at the same time.

I have never written about being an addict and I have never written about losing my little boy.