There is a lot of love buried in this object.
One of my friends, the wonderful Sinead Oskan, sent them to me in the wake of the loss of my perfect princesses, Lucy and Bryonie.
She told me that her Aunt had given these to her, but she thought that they were just too perfect for me that she passed them on instead of keeping them herself. She said she thought they perfectly summed up what the girls were pretty much doing in heaven: cuddled up together, sleeping. Twins should never be apart.
She made a little bracelet with their names spelled out in beads, which is wrapped around them as the sleep on a nest of shredded paper in a tiny box lid.
This was such a touching present, because there was so much thought put into it and love. Someone thought about my loss, it touched them and they reached out to me in my hour of need in a wonderful, emotionally truthful way. I appreciated that more than I can say.
Being lost in the middle of an ocean of horrific grief is a horrible thing and to find such goodness in people at that time was wonderful. They hauled me overboard their life raft and helped me, rather than abandon me to drown.
I know it is so difficult for people to know how to react and speak around a grieving mother. Saying things like “It wasn’t meant to be” and “it happened for a reason” are NOT nice OR helpful. In Sinead’s case, she knew she couldn’t find the words, so found this instead as a way of reaching out to me.
I didn’t and do not expect things from people. I am very unmaterialistic. If I had a million pounds, I’d probably spend it on ice cream rather than a flash house and car and allll the trappings of wealth (I’d move to Whitby though, in a heartbeat, for my family though. I’d be happy in a tent!). I just try and keep the basics going: kids safe/well/fed/watered/roof over their head etc. My car isn’t new and my house…. Let’s just not talk about my house. It is fair to say though, that this series has flagged up the little bits that mean something. You will see nothing of any monetary value – only sentimental. This is one such piece that is very sentimental for me.
I look at these gorgeous, sleeping baby rabbits and think of my girls and the wonderful woman who sent them to me.
Sinead lives in Turkey now (bit of a change from St Helens!) and has two gorgeous babies herself. She tells me that when she goes out for a walk near where she lives, there is a beautiful blue lake and that when she is out with her boys, remembers my girls and imagines them being there with her, playing by that lake.
As a bereaved Mum, that level of thought just means so much… I am beyond grateful and moved.
It restored my faith a little in humanity – that people like Sinead exist in this world and that she is bringing up two wee lambs who will no doubt be wonderful people, like her.