Thirty three years ago today, August 28, 1980, my beautiful boy, Terence Swanston, was born. Going to the hospital was déjà vu as his sister had been born in the same hospital 2 years previously – her birth day is August 29. They would have shared the same date but Terry was born in a leap year so there was an extra day in February.
It was a much easier labour and delivery this time and we were so excited to welcome our little bundle of joy. We had seen the second Star Wars movie a few weeks earlier and Terry reminded us of Yoda – be we decided not to name him that.
The next day Michael and Jennifer came to pick us up. The same nurse who carried Jennifer out to our car that Labour Day weekend 2 years earlier carried Terence. She remembered us and was so pleased to see Jennifer again (gosh she must have carried hundreds of babies). We had a little birthday party for Jennifer the next day to help her feel special too.
When a new baby is born life seems so hopeful, and it is hopeful. We must never lose hope (for long anyway). Looking back today, I am surprised that this day the grief pit is deeper and darker than the one on his memorial day one week ago. As I sat by the beautiful carved bent cedar box that holds his ashes I lit a candle and was overwhelmed with grief. My son, my beautiful boy, my Terry. I never thought that a crushing depression would eventually suck all the joy and ultimately life from you. I love you with all my heart and miss you forever. Mum xxx