While it's a way to say goodbye to her, I don't ever want to say goodbye to her. I don't ever feel like I have to, why should I? (Can you tell I'm angry now?)
It was good to sit and cry. And it was good to have our families around. But her little casket was so small.
We released some balloons on the river after the service, adding our messages to the ribbons and then that was that.
I feel more empty and depressed now than I felt for ages. Just flat. My mother and stepdad leave the UK next weekend (my mum has been here for two months - and has been such a huge emotional support to me, as well as helping me with Sebastian so much.)
I am not ready to let go. In all aspects.
Releasing balloons for her on the Thames near the crematorium.
11 comments:
The Brits made me cry my eyes out. So sorry Peas and Brit - I cant even imagine, but I have you both in my thoughts xx
Nick, go and Troll someone's elses blog, you asshat.
Wow Nick. Where have you been? It's been a good 8 years hasn't it - at least since you wrote about me, in varying degrees from innocuously creepy to start with, and then to how awful I am.
I didn't remember who you were, but your name rang bells initially and then it struck me 'Oh yes. The guy in Grahamstown everyone thought was a weirdo.'
Nick the Dick was your name, if I recall.
http://www.nickvanderleek.com/2006/09/digital-citizen-indaba.html
http://www.nickvanderleek.com/2006/09/i-have-this.html
http://www.nickvanderleek.com/2006/09/thank-you-for-vomitting.html
http://english.ohmynews.com/articleview/article_view.asp?menu=c10400&no=359246&rel_no=1
Amazing that you have been reading 'Vomit on Toast' this whole time really.
I was so shocked at your comment here, that I sat with my husband and family last night and asked them what they thought. My post, your comment. I asked them if in fact there is any merit to what you have said, as it has affected me more than you'd ever, ever know or care. And the sad reality is that you don't even know me!
I asked them what they would do - and if anything I had written was even vaguely as you suggest - narcissistic or otherwise. Their conclusion was not to reply to you and give you the satisfaction of knowing how much your comment hurt me. But I can't do that. Not this time.
I've always written down my thoughts as my way of processing things. Losing one of my twins is one of the hardest things I've ever had to deal with, and will so for the rest of my life.
REGARDLESS of the 12 lovely people that read my blog, this is my space as it always has been to process my thoughts.
All I've ever wanted for Molly - as I never had the privilege of meeting my daughter - is acknowledgement that she existed. And that she is as important to me as her brother Sebastian. And most of all REMAINS UNFORGOTTEN. I have nothing to remember her by, nothing tangible accept my thoughts and the small ceremonies we have put in place for her. Photos, mementos and words are therefore more important than ever for her memory.
Another family member took the pictures at Molly's Funeral so we had something. And most importantly something to show Sebastian - her twin brother - when he is older so he understands and he can see for himself.
I don't expect you to understand this, and nor should I need to justify this to someone like you, given you want you rip open my heart by calling me disgusting for actually documenting my daughter.
Ever since I chose to mostly ignore you in Grahamstown and your comments from then, you feel the need to come here still and comment like you have any idea what you're taking about.
Ironically, if anyone's narcissistic, it's you. 'Yassus' indeed.
My God, you're creepier than I ever thought.
Ignore this garbage ma Darlin! We love you all.... And a fitting au revoir to little Molly xx
You don’t have to justify yourself, Peas, to this sad, sanctimonious ginger troll who’s self-declared raison d’etre is ‘leaving a legacy’ as an occasionally asinine [ie all-the-time asshole] Asperger’s hack creating click-bait. Thanks for sharing your journey with us, hon
Oh fuck off nick you sad old fuck.
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