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Boxed Up Things In My Head Uncategorized

My father told me,


"I won't die till I have played with your children."


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The day I was to be discharged from the hospital, my mum dreamt of me sitting naked in the hospital bed with a baby suckling at my breast. My sutures had come undone and the section scar was wide open.

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I still think of the heartbeat. I still think it was there till I knew.

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My aunt knitted a mini-mat for my mum partly using a stock of wool that was to go into CBub's sweater. I have asked my mum to not use the mat. And she hasn't. And there are concentric rectangles in the mat, and the sky blue (the colour I had chosen) is so beautiful.

Comments

  1. areyoukiddingme1 November 2011 at 20:13

    Tough things - all of those. Expectations in every thought...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous2 November 2011 at 00:35

    Too heavy for just one soul... I hope sharing makes them a little bit more bearable.
    Hugs.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Anonymous2 November 2011 at 01:29

    hugs.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Mrs. Gamgee2 November 2011 at 04:17

    I was about to write a comment about how heavy a burden all of those things are, but I changed my mind. Painful or sorrowful? yes. But not a burden... a burden is something that you don't want to carry. As hard as it is to carry these things in your heart, there is no way that I can imagine you willingly giving up those memories. They are too precious.

    Sending prayers and hugs.

    ReplyDelete

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