Wednesday, 30 May 2012
The little guy is in to talking about birthdays at the moment and the other day in the car he got talking about family birthdays, including Daddy's. "I miss Daddy," I said. "Yes. He came in a box home. There were screws on the lid. Why? ... Why Mummy?" I don't know. I don't what to say. It's all blank. There's nothing. I'm 35 years old and I'm talking to my 2 1/2 yr old son about why his Daddy, my best friend, the man I married forever, came home to our lounge in a coffin. Why are there screws on the lid? Well I don't know. Not in this blank moment. I can't even come up with a lame "I don't know." The topic shifts to birthday cakes. Oh good I can do that. We've arrived home in the driveway. "Do you think Daddy would like a chocolate cake or a banana cake?" "Both!" he answers. Now we're talking. He continues. "Daddy could have cake in heaven, and there will be grass and he can have a picnic rug." Oh dear God how did it all come to this? Dear God I hope there is cake in Heaven.
Posted by Angela at 22:38