Be Happy

So Happy New Year and all that jazz.

I hate to be a party pooper but I’ve grown to dislike the day over the last few years. In the past I loved it. As kids we went to the most incredible parties…conga-ing down the high street, watching *ahem* responsible adults drink yards of ale, dancing and singing, fireworks, love and laughter.

Then as I grew older we would party harder and drink and sing. My cousin and then partner in crime, would dance for hours, laugh and generally worry our parents until we returned home, regaling them with stories.

When I became a mum parties became tamer and we invariably stayed in, happy to watch the tv or play games with our family.

And then the difficult years struck. The ones that really shaped my life…not Evie but other truly life shaping and affirming events. As I look back on my old social media posts from back then, those New Years, each time I was glad to see the back of a difficult year, happy to welcome the new with open arms and a heart full of hope. As I look back at those posts, my heart aches for what I now know was to come.

Today I have found it hard to remember the good times, the happiness, the love and laughter. I’ve grieved for what I have lost, both real and my then imagined future. We have beautiful girls and I love them with all that I am, but I still miss their brother, my mum and others; I wonder what might have been.

And I now I try to put those feelings to bed. I pick myself up and I think of the future. I am afraid, yet I try not to be.

I think of the massive steps Evie has taken recently. Her comprehension and memory has taken such incredible steps. She remembered a top I showed her on the internet when I was sale shopping….she knew what was inside the parcel that arrived. She knew that a dinosaur on the TV was a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

This may not be huge to you…but to us the recognition and understanding is such a huge leap. I remember all of this and I begin to smile.

I think of our Christmas and the joy on the girls’ faces, the joy that they bring us. Sometimes in the midst of grief, it’s hard to remember this.

At the exact point of typing this, H stuck her finger in my face, saying “smell this”. Stupidly I smell it, then disgusted I ask her where it’s been as quite frankly it stinks…”my feet Mummy”.

πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

Evie, H, their Dad and I all roll around laughing.

I get dragged out of my stupor. By our beautiful girls. Grief stinks but laughter cures.

Laughter the cure of everything.

Laughter the way of 2016.

My New Year’s Resolution…to laugh…and to laugh even more. As Evie’s new top says, the one that she so brilliantly remembered “Be Happy”.

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