You Want The Real Me?
This is always a difficult time of the year for me - it's getting chillier, it's getting darker at night (and if you have been following, you will know that this doesn't suit me at all) and there's something else, too.
Jane-at-work (a new addition to the Bell's team) looked at this blog and was disappointed by the fact that "there's not a lot of you in there." Well, I didn't start this blog to talk about me - I started it to talk about knitting. I hope that I have held true to that wish. (Jane-at-work said bits of it were too technical for her, so that gives me hope.)
This really is a bad time for me and the reason why I have been so slack at everything lately.
In 1990, our firstborn son, Aidan, died at the age of seven days. It was a cot death (but it wasn't because I was feeding him at the time). I don't know how I lived through it.
He had red hair.
He was beautiful.
He would have been 16.
I miss him so much.
6 comments:
I'm so sorry, Kate. I can't even begin to imagine such a loss.
As for what Jane-at-work says about your blog? This is -your- blog. Do what *you* want with it. At the same time I think you're incredibly brave to share such an intimate part of your life with everyone.
Oh Kate...I am so very sorry. I cannot even imagine what you must have gone through and the loss you must always feel.
My thoughts are with you.
I am so sorry, Kate, for that terrible loss.
There really aren't any words, Kate, but I'm so very sorry.
Oh, Kate. There's nothing to say, but that you're in my thoughts. I'm so sorry.
I can't even begin to imagine what it's like to lose a child. I'm so sorry.
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