Three Years

Last week, a friend asked me about how we chose names for our three boys. I was so pleased to be asked, and on the third anniversary of Archie and Aubrey’s birth, I thought it was a good time to share what I told her, and some thought about how I am doing these days.

Three years is a long time, and the very blink of an eye. Inigo keeps getting bigger, the others remain a treasured memory.

Inigo was named after the character in “The Princess Bride“.

Have you seen the movie? Or read the book?

It won’t make a lot of sense unless you have – he is a strange character, very brave, and loyal, and determined. But also very human.

Inigo’s middle name is George, after his maternal great grandfather

Aubrey means “Ruler of Elves”. We chose it because Aubrey wasn’t with us for long, I think of him as a fleeting sprite. A bright but brief energy (which makes me sound like a crazy hippy, but there you have it). His middle name is Michael, after my uncle, my mothers younger brother who died when he was 10 days old. He was born with a hole in his heart, and my grandmother was never allowed to even see him. or hold him, or feed him. His absence left a big hole in our family, I can’t imagine what it was like for my grandmother.

Archimedes was named after the great mathematician, and father of the science of fluid dynamics. He lived for such a long time with little or no amniotic fluid, and we so hoped that he would overcome that adversity. It was not to be, but the name reflects great scientific striving.

Hare is an old family name in Mark’s family, we don’t know the story behind it, but early in our relationship we were given a hare to care for by a vet. Grasshopper meant a lot to both of us, and Hare also has that feeling of the brief but powerful.

Three years makes me feel like an elder statesman – the survivor.

I know that is a crazy thing to say, but surviving every single day at the beginning was so fucking hard.

Now I feel like I have woven them into my life, that their lives and their loss are inextricably a part of me, and I know for certain that I am a better person because of them.

There is great power in knowing that you can survive the worst thing in the world. That is their gift to me, and I am coming to a point now that I can honour that gift by living well, feeling joy, and that success and happiness is not disloyalty, but the best sort of memorial.

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Thanks to everyone for your messages of support on the day, and especially to Steph for taking me out in the morning, to dad for entertaining me in the afternoon, and mum for loaning him out 🙂

Thanks also to Bonnie and Zenia for the memorial stone fruit trees, and to Adam and Kerry for taking great care of them. Both trees have fruit on them!

I appreciate every single chance to talk about my boys, and even more, those of you that let me do it 🙂

And the flowers? Awful blue chrysanthemums I found at the train station. Yes, I do have an odd sense of humour.