Another year ticking over since I last held her, smelt her, kissed her.
Coming up 5 years since. Five seems such a large number. So significant. So far away.
At times it all feels like a dream, that she was never here, not real.
This Christmas was the first we didn’t visit over Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Besides being poorly, not visiting her was actually a really difficult decision. This year I felt unbelievably torn. Between the love, the lives of the children who are with me and her.
The thought of the cold and the rain, standing there blowing kisses to the air.
Leaving her behind in the cold and the rain pains me every single time.
That is where she is, cold in the open air. Alone and away from her family.
This year I couldn’t face the trip.
Another guilty feeling in this shitty situation.
It’s been almost 5 years, I’ve had enough now. What ever bad shit I have done, I’ve paid. I want her home, to complete the family we had planned.
Five years of trying to keep her memory alive.
Five years of family and friends turning their backs on us.
Five years of justifying why she still mention her.
She may have only been here 5 weeks, 35 days. But she is still our daughter. She never had the chance to become the woman she could have been. No celebrity status, no chance at life, just a hope taken.
This year as we tick over into 2017, I feel confused, hurt I guess, almost raw again.
This time five years ago I was pregnant and looking forward to the following Christmas, her first.
Because I don’t want to.