I’ve realised I’ve started buying grapes again, and not just buying them… eating them too! Abi loved grapes. She’d come in from school and devour a bunch easily while watching TV. Ever since she died, I’ve not been able to … Continue reading
Abi’s memorial has a cherry blossom tree next to it, but it’s only young, having been planted last May with her ashes. The first small buds are starting to form ready for springtime.
So, while it’s still small and not much to look at, it is a poignant reminder that life carries on… Soon there will be pretty pink flowers over Abi, reminding us of her vibrance, joy for life and beauty.
To commemorate Abi’s passing, we bought lots of small ribbons in bright colours… blues, pinks and funky leopard print.
We tied them all over the tree and were really pleased with the result. It looks pretty for a young teen and suits her style.
Even so, we can’t believe that this is all we can do for her, but at least it’s something. Tending a grave or memorial is such a vital part of still feeling like her mother, by doing practical, motherly things for her; just like I would help her with choosing hair accessories or makeup, I want to ensure she always has pretty flowers and looks presentable.
I have no idea how we will do this over the years… will our tributes change as she ages, or will she always be aged 12/13 in our eyes? That is something we can’t possibly decide now and will have to face with time.
I’ve just been browsing an old computer file of Abi’s artwork… random stories, computer drawings and images saved over the years.
How interesting to find a file called DRAGON FLYS. It was created on 9th February 2009 … wow … four years before Abi died. She would have been nine years old then.
There’s no explanation for why she did this and it’s just two images in a Word file, perhaps it was a school project on mini beasts…? Who knows, but a special find in any case.
Please, Mum and Dad…
My hands are small, I don’t mean to spill my drink.
My legs are short – please slow down so I can keep up.
Don’t slap my hands when I touch something bright and pretty. I don’t understand.
Please look at me when I talk to you. It lets me know you are really listening.
My feelings are tender – don’t nag me all day. Let me make mistakes without feeling stupid.
Don’t expect the bed I make or the picture I draw to be perfect. Just love me for trying.
Remember, I am a child, not a small adult. Sometimes I don’t understand what you’re saying.
I love you so much. Please love me just for being myself, not just for the things I can do.