BEAUTIFUL MYSTERIES | To me, my son is a beautiful mystery. I gave birth to him and yet I never knew him. I sometimes allow myself to imagine that he is alive in another time and space and that we are all together. If it is not too painful, allow yourself to imagine who your child would be now. What would they be like? What would they be passionate about. Tell a wild, beautiful story about them.
I considered something like this in This door is locked. The mystery is not beautiful, it is uncomfortable. If they had lived would we have had our rainbow children? I couldn’t allow one to be the price of the other. Part of the #captureyourgrief project is trying to look at things in a different light so I will try.
Let’s say they had lived. It’s their fifth birthday with all the presents and balloons and cake and noise that comes with it. It’s a day they’ve decided to dress the same to maximise the potential for confusion and ‘mistaken’ present receiving. Their brother and sisters are revelling in the barely contained chaos of a house filled with school friends and family as we alternately work as riot control or retreat into the kitchen for respite.
The boys are marvelling over their presents and working out which of them they will steal from the other occasionally putting their rivalries aside to work together on a ludicrously complicated Lego set surrounded by scattered birthday books or make a beautiful cacophony on their guitars and drum kit.
There are raised eyebrows at the combination Spiderman/Thomas the Tank Engine birthday cake but for once Pinterest has served us well and the Spidey faced train with its webbed blue icing paint job looks incredible for the 10 minutes it survives being demolished by hungry mouths and greedy fingers.
Happy birthday my sons. Time to blow out the candles.