Yesterday was 10 months since I lost my precious first born son, Brendan Bjørn. It seems like yesterday that he was here next to me, sitting in his wheelchair, smiling and laughing at his younger brother. It seems like yesterday that I woke up to the sound of him over the video monitor vocalising that he was awake and so it was time for me to get up, too. It seems like yesterday that I watched him take his last breath, the pain is still so intense. But it wasn’t yesterday. None of it was. It was 10 months ago or longer and all of those thoughts are now just memories. Some to be cherished. Some to try and forget.
Today has been 33 years since I lost my mother. She was only 60 and I was only just after turning 24. Both of us far too young. She would have loved Brendan Bjørn and I have to believe that she was there to great him when it was his time to leave me. She was a kind, gentle soul. She had the most vivid blue eyes you can imagine. She smoked too much and drank too much and through her struggles, she always, always loved me. That I’ll never forget.
Today I woke early despite it being a Saturday and drove up to Dublin, laid on that hard backboard of the MRI machine and had a scan of my brain done in an attempt to figure out why I’m having a number of health issues. (see my last blog piece) I hope beyond hope that it will help answer what needs to be done to get my health back on track because I’m not ready to lie down and quit. I’ve too much to live for still. I am fighting for tomorrow.
Today my younger son and I spent the hours driving there and back talking about everything and nothing. We’ve discovered this new opportunity for us to connect in the car recently as I have started driving him to and from school every day. Prior to losing Brendan Bjørn, I could never do such a thing with Declan because of the constraints or limitations imposed on my own abilities due to my caring duties. Over the past 10 months, Declan and I have slowly dipped our toes into the future with this new ‘freedom’ which arose from such a devastating loss. I feel a level of guilt saying that, but there it is. Some of you will understand.
Tomorrow is Mother’s Day here in Ireland. It’s a day that, in my heart, means the world to me.
I dedicate this post to my own mother, long passed, but who I still dearly miss.
I dedicate this post to my beautiful, perfect angel Brendan Bjørn, who made me a mother after four miscarriages and so many years of thinking I would never see that dream actually come true. What a gift he gave to me. What a gift he was in my life.
And I dedicate this post to my son Declan, for it is he who keeps me going now and he who continues to bring laughter and purpose to my days. An amazing, compassionate, truly special young man who I am so passionately proud to have as my son.
Tomorrow. May all of our tomorrows be better than our yesterdays and may all of our todays be filled with hope for our tomorrows.
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