Blog 5 : A Dad in Grief : Saying Goodbye

Blog 5 : A Dad in Grief : Saying Goodbye 

I have tried many times to describe how I felt the weeks and months after saying goodbye to Mia but the only one that has ever fitted is this. It was as if I was trapped inside a bubble, I was stumbling around at 10mph yet the world outside my bubble was travelling at 70mph. I could see the outside world getting on with their lives as if nothing had happened, but of course they were, and they had every right to, their lives hadn't been shattered into a million pieces the way mine had. The sounds of everyday life passed me by too, it was if I was listening to the world from underwater, like when you go to the swimming pool and you hear the muffled voices and laughs when your head dips below the surface. That's what life was like from inside my bubble. I felt as though the whole world was talking about me, like they were all staring at me. When I saw the groups of women talking in the coffee shops, the shoppers in the supermarkets, I felt as though I was their one and only topic of conversation. I know I wasn't, but that's the way it feels, like all eyes are on you. 

The dining room table soon resembled the window display of a high class florist, floral gifts arriving a few times a day and the postman certainly earned his wages, handfuls of sympathy cards arriving each day. This in itself is so so wrong, they should have been "It's a Girl" cards, all happy and pink, instead we we were faced with hoards of sympathy cards, the majority of which are not meant for beautiful baby girls. 

The funeral had to be arranged but I simply couldn't bear to make the call. I couldn't admit that I had to arrange a funeral for my baby girl. A family member made the call for us and the funeral director visited us later that week. So now we had to try and plan a fitting tribute for our beautiful little baby girl. We set about arranging the perfect send off for our princess, after all, it was the only thing we could now do for her. 

The day that we had been dreading was here, it was the day of Mia's funeral. Little Miss Sunshine had worked her magic again, here was a sunny day sandwiched between horrible rainy days. Guests started to arrive at the house mid morning, Mia was already at the house. Mummy and Daddy had spent some time alone with her before family and friends arrived. Her small white coffin was near the table displaying all the flowers that had been delivered.  

We had decided that Mia's funeral was to be a colourful affair and we were quite overwhelmed as we approached the cemetery chapel. The amount of people that had gathered there, all looking very colourful touched us deeply. We will be forever grateful to everyone that supported us that day, it showed us that Mia was loved. She managed to touch many people in those few hours she was fighting with us. For someone so small and vulnerable, she had an amazing power. 

It's a dads job to protect his little girl, I never got to do that for Mia, she had the angels to protect her. I can accept that, but there were certain things that I had to do for my princess, I wanted to make her proud of her daddy. It was me that was to carry her coffin, that was nobody else's job but mine and I had prepared a reading on behalf of my wife and I that I would read at the service. Writing those words was so hard, and I think I cried the whole time I was writing them, but I seen this as one of the roles of the job I introduced in blog 3, the Dad in Grief. I read them without a tear at the service, how I did this I will never know, I can only imagine that Mia wanted her daddy to be strong, and I know I certainly didn't want to let my princess down. The same can be said for carrying my Angel into the service, how my legs carried me safely I don't know, they felt like jelly the whole time. Even now, if I have an important meeting in work, a presentation or I just feel I need some of Mia's strength with me, I wear the tie that I wore that day. I call it my Mia tie. 

There was a strange atmosphere the evening of the funeral, I seemed to have been released from my bubble for a few hours. It was as though a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders, I could see clearly again, I could hear things properly, I seemed to be travelling at the same pace as everybody else again. I went to bed with my head the clearest it had been for 2 weeks, maybe things change after the funeral? I woke the next morning, I'd come flying back down to earth at an incredible pace, the weight that was lifted the night before was back, but twice as heavy, I was back under water, I had reverted back into slow motion. I was back in my bubble, trapped, and there was nothing I could do about it. The only question is, for how long?