Words from a friend

A card arrived in my letterbox today, and since it says so much of what I lack the fortitude to express, I have asked (and been granted) permission to share the words here.

I did my first exam today, and expect that I will do OK – no HD, but ok considering the pathetic amount of work I did this semester. And frankly, this semester has coincided with me being a bit more functional – more socially functional, and more importantly, more capable as a mother. So I’ve been focussing my energies on being a great mama to the best kid in the world, and I have no regrets, no matter what results I get.

On Monday, on our way to swimming class, Inigo said, “Mama, if I get sad or scared in the pool today, I’ll wave at you, and you can make me feel better”. “OK Squish”, said I, not really paying attention (as I was driving).

“And if the other kids are sad, I’ll get you too”.

“Oh, baby, if the other kids are sad, they will want their own mamas”.

“No”, says he, “their mamas aren’t as nice as you”.

I think Credits will be fine this semester 🙂



Dear Lara,

heavy heart. Grief, shock, regret, memory. I think of you at the mercy of your body, the medical “help”. I think of you as Mama, the hours of Archie’s life going while you are unable to hold, touch, comfort him. I can’t help but think of Archie, and that is what kills me, because we could never explain, never reassure any cries with cuddles, soothing words.

What you experienced that day alone leaves me pathetically repeating myself: I cannot begin to imagine what you must feel – how a Mama can live through that.

And what Archie went through will always cause me so much pain, as everyone tried to help save him, the wee vulnerable mite. Not the gentle entrance to the world you first began to dream of during your pregnancy with Iggy.

And Iggy. If you had lost Archie and Aubrey and not had Iggy, how totally different your grief would have been. Never known the smiles from the booby boy, the relief of sleeping babies, the awesome pride in all the mountains of growth and understanding; and then the speech and personality that soon overtakes you and takes you constantly by surprise. Iggy ecstatic to share something, Iggy seeking comfort, Iggy testing your every ounce of personhood – beautiful Inigo, who has taught you motherhood. I grieve for you and also for your beloved boy as I hear my two in crazy giggles on the floor, as I cradle them both for a story, as I see M (little brother) so comforted by O’s (big brother) kisses, touch, songs, simple presence – and as I see O’s development in his role as big brother. Iggy would have been beautiful. I fantasise these relationships sometimes. I know his life is full of love, but no one else is his brother.

Last year, your life changed, and you changed. You will never be the pre A&A Lara again. Your boys you will take in your heart, in your body, to the grave.

Lara, my darling friend, I will always be here to stand by you and salute and support you, MOTHER OF THREE.


Your friend Jx

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