You would think that breathing is the most natural thing in the world, it’s what makes us alive, keep going.
Only when you become a bereaved parent, the breathing becomes heavy, your heart so heavy you can feel it weighing a tonne inside your chest, every beat felt, maybe even heard.
For me Spring makes me feel a lot like this, so heavy, my body feels so heavy, because I guess it knows that is incomplete.
A broken heart is actually indescribable, for me I cannot put into words what it feels like.
Today was about breathing in your surroundings, grief can overwhelm us, and that of course is OK, but also we need to be able to relax, and learn to breathe without the missing person.
During the Spring, or when John and I find things particularly bad.
We walk, and walk.
(30/5/2012 7:36am 15 days after she should have come home)
In the very beginning, we had no idea what to do with our selves, my older two children would go to their dad’s, we’d be left home in silent.
We were supposed to have had a hospital trip or a baby at home, we had neither.
I felt like a failure as a mum.
We’d get up at 6am and walk, it was a time we could avoid people, avoid the road crossing the explanations, the pity eyes.
We held each other’s hands, stepped forward, sometimes would be in silence but most of it, the only sound was our footsteps, or the odd car.
John and I help each other breathe.