How do you deal with the death of a child?
My blog has always been a mixture of work and family – matching the whole work life merge thing. For me there is no firm line between them. My kids are part of everything I do and am. So I cannot just focus on work issues without writing first about the awful news we had last week that my beautiful, beautiful eldest daughter – daughter one – has been killed in a senseless collision.
This is what I posted on my Facebook page, which is as much as I can put together for now. There are simply no words to express what she means to us. Just seeing her face or hearing her voice made the world a better place. From the very first moment when the nurses put her all wrapped up in bed with me because I couldn’t pick her up and we just stared at each other she was both part of me and very much her own person, a sparkling intelligence.
She was the leader of the Delectables, the name my mum gave to the three girls; she absolutely adored her brother and told him all the time which really annoyed him, but it was true. She couldn’t help herself. She was the family cat whisperer. They all congregated in her room because she was such a calming presence. She was fiercely intelligent and questioning of everything. She was a loyal friend who cared deeply about people, even when she was struggling herself.
She was endlessly interesting and interested in everything – she would walk around with a philosophy book in her coat pocket as a young teen, and not for show. She was the queen of the witty comment. All her wild enthusiasm for music was transferred to the whole family. If she loved something, we all loved it – from High School Musical and One Direction to the 1975 and Timothee Chalamet and all manner of artsy stuff in between…
People talk about closure, but there can be no closure. I don’t want closure. I want her to be here always and we will do our best to do all the things she would have wanted to do, but now can’t. I simply adored her in every single way.