Gone

A had the same type of coffin as his brother V., it rested in the same little room as V. did (room number 19) and this morning he was cremated in the same furnace as his brother V.

V. didn't have flowers on his coffin and we didn't visit him at the crematorium before the actual cremation. I guess there was a lot more shock, and the fact that it was a full term birth meant that I was still recovering. And plus the sad fact that I already know what to do this time around.

We visited A. on Saturday and on Sunday and were present for the cremation this morning. His paternal grandmother also visited him on Sunday with us. His (living) grandfather said it was too difficult and didn't come.

I even saw A again on Saturday. The man at the funeral directors that we saw on Thursday was a total idiot and I told him I needed the coffin open since I didn't have any confidence that he would make sure A. was wrapped in my mother's blanket or given the toy. My mother finished that blanket after my father died. So I checked it for myself. It was all there.




I put a marigold in on Saturday and today I put some incense sticks in as well. Now I know that I could have seen V. again before his cremation. I didn't but I could have managed it.

I spend my nights wondering whether if I go to my mother in June my husband will die in an accident whilst I am away and if I don't spend time with my mother she will die alone with no-one to discover her. And I spend my time missing my Dad and slowly absorbing that he is gone forever and that he will never call me again and clear his throat on the phone and say hello [Rosepetal], how are you?

Where in this is the space for me to think about V? V. has suddenly become the big brother who needs to look after his little brother. The coffin was much too little when I saw it for V. But for A. it was huge.

I'm sorry A. I hope we did the right thing. I wanted you to avoid a life time of suffering, of such major operations on your little little heart when you would hardly have the strength to recover. 60% of Trisomy 21 babies miscarry in the 1st trimester. You made it but I ended it for you. I'm sorry.

I miss you Dad.

And V., I wish you were here.