I don’t believe, she is in a better place or that she’s all around us.
I know it is easier to think this way. I do wish I could. Occasionally I’ll say hello to a passing white butterfly, but I’ve struggled with this over the whole time.
I’ve had friends who would say, “Melody’s visiting their garden”. Or “Melody had sent good weather” for what ever occasion they’re preparing for.
It made me question a lot.
Well, why isn’t she visiting me? I’m her mum.
Why can’t I feel her? Does she hate me?
I went over and over this so many times. It just added to all the guilt and anger I was feeling anyway.
I feel envious sometimes of people who are aware of their babies.
My children have that comfort for their sister, their Cloud baby. So now I’m not bothered by what others “think” they feel in regards to Melody, as long as her siblings have found something.
I won’t take that away. It’s all cruel enough.
I, of course wonder all the time who she’d have been. The thing that bothers me the most is not knowing the colour of her eyes.
How I do not know the colour of my daughter’s eyes?
It is something we all,as parents take for granted.
Do they have mum or dad’s eyes? It’s a normal, topic.
Yet I don’t know hers.
My eldest two children were from a previous marriage, we all have blue eyes of some shade. Easy.
When her little sister was born she too had blue eyes, then around her first birthday, we suddenly noticed her eyes were like her dad’s… Brown.
This of course caught me off guard, I assumed she’d had the blue eyes for so long, she’d taken after me.
Bringing me to wish even more to know the colour of Melody’s eyes. Finally triggered once more, when Melody’s second little sister was born,after a year of waiting, her eyes stayed blue. One of each.
Who is Melody?
Okay, I know I’m rambling,but can you see?
It is impossible to imagine who she’d be. Her hair glistened blonde in the sunlight, yet we’re red heads.
She feet wiggled when she wanted to get cosy. Like me (and her siblings).
She had her dad’s nose.
She raised her eye brows when her eyes were still closed, just like her siblings.
She really is our beautiful mystery.
Our miniature hero, with secrets to hold, a super power no one could ever know..
Note: I am working on a project,have been for a while that does involve Melody, an adventure of her own.
By this project,I hope this will help with my spiritual relationship with her.