firsts
I remember clearly the first time you lifted your leg up and found your feet, you were obsessed with your foot and I remember phoning your nan and excitedly telling her you’d found your feet as if no baby in the history of the planet had ever found their feet! That’s what parents do though, we celebrate every smile, every word, every moment. Yes, I think adoration is a particularly good word for these kind of firsts. An adoration of firsts.
So what should we call a group of firsts that happen when we've lost someone of great importance? A relevance of firsts perhaps. Firsts have such powerful relevance now you’ve gone.
The first day, week, month without you. The first Halloween. The first Christmas. Even something as simple as going to the shops. The first time I went shopping and ventured into Primark, I remembered always joking with you and saying are we going in your favourite shop Neve. I don’t go in there anymore, its as if there’s echoes of you there, I half expect you to walk around the corner any second, shirt in hand, complaining there isn’t one in your size. Ah yes these firsts hurt the most.
The firsts don’t particularly all happen in the first year either. I remember our walks in the snow and how much fun we would have. We didn’t have much snow this year so I have that first walk alone in the snow to contend with whenever Mother Nature decides its time for another snowy blast.
Theres lots more firsts to come. Your birthday will be so hard. Last year you were so full of hopes and dreams on your eighteenth, showing no signs of your anxiety for the future, frightening how just short of three months later you were gone.
Then there will be the first anniversary of your death.
A melancholy of firsts
A sadness of firsts
all fitting, all true.
Miss you beyond the stars Nevey
Mum x
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