…but wishing there were three walking around.
Thinking of our friends from college who lost their four month old baby boy this week. Praying that God might sustain their every step as they walk through that dark and lonely valley.
2011
Cameron’s fourth anniversary this year was truly special. For four days, we remembered him, we mourned his death and we celebrated his life.
The day before the fifteenth was our day off. We took the boys to Bicentennial Park where we ate watermelon and enjoyed the warmth and sunshine. I watched Rick play with Angus and Pete while Jamie watched me from his pram. It was the perfect way to prepare our hearts for the following day.
On the fifteenth, we met up with my parents at the Memorial Gardens where we spent an hour or more just hanging out together near Cameron’s spot in the gardens. The sun was out and the sky was blue. Mum had brought along a beautiful bunch of flowers from her garden, which touched me immensely. As I bustled about taking photos and attending to the needs of little ones, I could hardly believe that we had two boys running around and another one sitting up in the pram. We were so blessed. This year, Rick explained to Angus that Cameron’s remains were buried next to his plaque. Angus’ response was both swift and curious: “Can we dig?”
On the sixteenth, Rick’s parents joined us at home where we celebrated Cameron’s birthday with a cake, complete with a number 4 candle. Mary had bought three books – one for each of the boys, all of them given in memory of their oldest brother. Angus seemed to actually understand it was Cameron’s birthday, while Pete just happily munched on the cake…
On the seventeenth, Rick and I attended the annual fundraising ball for the Stillbirth Foundation of Australia at the Sydney Hilton. A few of my dearest and oldest friends came along as well, in support of us and to honour Cameron’s memory with us. It was an amazing night, and for me, the most wonderful way of finishing Cameron’s week.
To my little guy: you may not be here, but you are here. Every day. In my mind. In my thoughts. In my heart. In our family.
Four years have only served to strengthen and deepen my love for you.
I love you, Cam.
Happy fourth birthday.
Some snapshots from yesterday…
Spring is once again upon us, and with it, warmer air and bluer skies.
The tree outside the boys’ bedroom is awash with tiny yellow flowers: every time I pull up the blinds, it’s the first thing I see. It reminds me of the cherry blossom tree outside the room that was meant to be Cameron’s – it too had been in full bloom back then, during the last days of my pregnancy.
I guess the truth is that I have been avoiding spring.
I have not allowed myself to revel in its beauty and its warmth.
To accept that spring is here means accepting that four years has now past since we lost our Cameron. Four years. Four years.
Four years ago yesterday was the last time we heard his heartbeat.
Four years ago today I was frantically preparing for his birth and arrival.
Four years ago tomorrow was the last whole day we had with him.
Four years ago Thursday was the day that we lost him.
Four years ago Friday was the day we finally met him.
And the last time we ever saw him.
Spring is here.
But Cameron is not.
And though I know it cannot be, I wish with all my heart it was the other way around.
It’s always strange when I manage to take a photo of Rick and the three boys. I feel a small sense of triumph, but then I look at the photo and remember that there’s one missing.
There’s always one missing.
This photo was taken down at Kiama last week, during our first family holiday with Jamie.
We miss you Cam. It’s been almost four years now, but every day, we continue to miss you.