Harry's Day 2018
I’m sure we’ve all used the phrase
“Sorry for your loss” when meeting someone who has just
suffered the death of a loved one.
Well I’ve just finished reading a book called “The Keeper of
Lost Things”
It’s really made me think about this phrase.
The book is basically about a guy who collects and labels
things he has found in the hope that one day he will be able to return them to
whoever lost them. Of course there is a message here as he has “lost” his wife
and he is looking for ways to find her.
It made me think about the idea of losing a loved one. When
I lose something, I can spend days looking for it. Going over my steps and
replaying the days from when I last saw whatever it is I am looking for. I
realised that that’s what I do with those special people who are now lost to
me. I know they are not coming back but I still look for them particularly at
certain times of the year.
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| Bluebells on Harry's Day 2018 |
I find those I have lost in my memories and in my photo
albums. I find them in a song or a special place.
Well today is Harry’s Day.
I never got the chance to make memories with Harry and there are only a
few precious photographs of him. So where do I find him? Well I believe that
Harry is in heaven so I look to the clouds, to the birds, and the trees. I see
him in the wonders of nature and each year I try to capture an image that will
remind me of him and I place it in a special box.
Each year I write him a poem and that goes in the box. I am
collecting memories to help me find my way through the loss that I suffered
together with my family.
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| Birthday Card Sept 2017 |
After 5 years the box is getting full. Every year on my
birthday and Christmas I receive a card from Ella Mae and it always has a
little heart in it with the letter H inside. Those cards are in my box.
In the weeks before Harry’s Day I have found myself in a
park with my other grandchildren and I look for other 5 year olds. I watch them
climb and play football, I listen to them argue with their siblings. I watch their parents protect them from falls
and celebrate their small achievements. I imagine Harry as a five year old and
hope that he has his sister’s giggle and his mother’s smile. I wonder whether
he’d be a footballer or a dancer. Then I wonder if he’s a five year old at all
or still that babe in arms that we met at 4.32am on Wednesday 15th
May 2013.
I try not to feel sad that Harry isn’t here and instead I
look to Lilly Bet and to Bradley and know that they are here because Harry is
not. One thing is for certain. Harry is not lost to us. Harry is in our hearts.
God Bless Little Man
Fly High!
