A Loss Mum’s Wish
My mind knows you are gone, but my heart does not.
Every day, I wish and long for you alittle bit more then I did the day before.
That maybe, if I wish for you to come back to me hard enough, we’ll make the headlines with an unexplainable miracle.
Grief has turned me delusional.
It’s been over four years since I said goodbye, little miss, but time does not become distance.
You are ever present in my mind, my thoughts and my heart.
So close to me and my world, yet a billion stars away; the invisible space in my life that only I can see.
How I wish others could see that space, as vividly as I do.
The perfect imprint of my baby who will never grow, always to be small enough to fit snuggly in my arms.
To know your memory lives on with no need for prompting, or reminding.
You are my daughter.
You are my little miss.
“What is her name?”, I silently beg for you to ask me.
“What did she look like?”, I wish you’d take a moment to gaze adoringly at her photo.
“What is your favourite memory?”, how I want to tell you so badly that I will never forget the day she opened her eyes.
To see the stars in her iris, that would become the canvas of my fantasies, lost in a moment of hope and curiosity, imagining the impossible.
Ask me…. please.
It’s these things that keeps my baby alive.
I’m a loss mum, but still a mum, just wishing my baby was alive.
Written by Dani, shared with permission.