TropicalSoup

Eight

 

Today was Atticus's birthday. Our firstborn would have been eight. Eight. That just blows my mind.

We set free some helium balloons in Addy's honour. Well, I'd picked up 8 with the intention of letting them all go, but Cole and Immy informed me that Addy - being the ever-generous and loving elder brother - would have been happier if they could each keep a balloon, so we took that route instead - I could hardly refuse what the munchkins were so adamant was the birthday boy's wishes, now could I?

 

 

Cole and Immy decided to write their wish on a balloon each, which was pretty gorgeous.

 

Immy drew a picture of her and Atticus playing together in the clouds, and Cole's balloon was a veritable ode to cool modes of transport - speedboats and racing cars and jet planes and rockets and all things that his big brother would have liked. There were plenty of hearts on both, as well as their names, so Atticus could easily tell who each balloon was from.

 

Singing happy birthday to Addy again was bittersweet, watching my younger 2 make a wish and send a message to their big brother as they let go of their balloon was very special, and having Cole spontaceously yell out *I love you so much baby Atticus that my heart will burst, and I hope you have a happy birthday and have fun playing with Nana Mary* just about did me in. There were tears, but there was also joy. And affirmation. And much watching of balloons in the big blue Australian sky until even the tiny dots disappeared.

 

Happy birthday my dear sweet Addy. Mama loves you. And she's not the only one.

Seven

(gorgeous candle pic by Jessica.Diamond)

Darling Atticus, today is your birthday. You would have been 7. Seven. wow.

Imogen woke me this morning to tell me excitedly that it was your birthday, and had I remembered? I had. She and Cole then proceeded to sing happy birthday *directly* to you - on their knees, with their wee hands clasped in prayer. I am ridiculously tickled that your brother and sister are wholly convinced that prayer exists for the purpose of talking directly to their brother, and God doesn't really come into it except in His role as a compassionate landlord of sorts, who shares babysitting duties with Nana Mary.

Sweetheart, I am not going to go on and on about how much I love you and wish you were here with us in more than a narrative sense - you know all this; I talk to you all the time. Instead, I'm going to say I hope you enjoyed watching the hut your siblings made on their beds with the biggest quilts and longest broom handles in the house...I heard them having a conversation in it last night after bedtime (note to self: big homemade huts are fabulous things, but they will help ward off sleep for small children better than even gorillas in the cupboard!) about how they would make it bigger if you were there to play with them. I teared up a little, and got considerably less grumpy about them still being awake so late.

Happy birthday, my sweet little bunny boy.

Six

Atticus Thornton Hugh. My beautiful wee boy with copper hair. Our firstborn. Today would have been your 6th birthday. How can it be only 6 years? It's hard to formulate the memory of a time when you weren't part of my reality, a part of our family. I miss you horribly still. I know I always will. But I also know that my life is slowly growing bigger around the black ache of losing you, and I know I am incredibly lucky to have had you for as long as we did. 

And you know, there's this amazing gift you have given us that goes beyond the short time we had together in reality. You have two amazing young siblings who talk about you all the time, and are constantly trying to wrap their wee minds around the concept of having a brother but not having a brother here, something that is tricky enough for your mother to grapple with, never mind a three year old. And they adore you, they really do. I love the conversations we have about you, and how you have been accepted so naturally into our wee family by these 2 little people most closely related to you, yet who have never met you. I love that Imogen told me she and Cole are extra special because they have a cloud angel brother who looks after them and not everyone is lucky enough to get one of those. And the way they have figured out that we each talk to you in our hearts since you can't hear us from all the way up there in the clouds (that's your little brother!) And the way they talk about you to anyone who will listen as if having a sibling who has died was the most normal thing in the world. And I guess for them, it is.

Tonight we had a wee celebration in your honour - mud chocolate cupcakes and pebbles, with plenty of candle lighting and blowing out. We love you baby Atticus. I ache for you every day, but I know you are safe and well and loved. Very very loved.

Clearly the wrong playlist

People's Evidence A:

One of the very lovely teachers at Montessori asked me sotto voce the other day as I was collecting Cole and Imogen whether anyone in the family had recently acquired a tattoo. Say what?!? Turns out Immy had been practising harnessing her stage presence atop the climbing frame and belting out a song about tattooed torsos. Is it weird that that made me breathe a sigh of relief because I could explain that no, that was just one of our favourite bedtime songs, Groucho Marx's fabulous Lydia the Tattooed Lady (though I confess Kermit's version is my favourite!)? I'm not sure if the fact I lull my children to sleep with ditties of ink-rendered body modifications made her less or more concerned?

People's Evidence B:

The subect of Atticus came up the other day, and somehow we got to talking about him dying. *Why did baby Atticus die?* they wanted to know. Now, this is always a bit tricky for me - I want to be honest but at the same time, don't want to scare these little people with too much information (a common risk with me!) or make pregnancy or tiny babies inherently dangerous in their mind. So, I said simply that baby Atticus had a germ bug that was too powerful for a little baby to overcome, and so he died before he could get out of my tummy. Cole and Imogen were quiet for a few moments while they digested this.

Mama, I think you must be confused, Cole finally tells me.

Erm, what exactly do you mean love?

Mama, baby Atticus died because he swallowed a fly and was too little. The old lady didn't die until she swallowed a horse because she had a much bigger mouth.

But is it a holiday without a plane?

 

 

 

That's what Immy asked me today when I said we were going on holiday to Wellington for a week. Poor little kid's been stuck on teeny tiny islands for too long - apparently the idea of being able to drive for more than 60 minutes without passing the beginning of your journey (at least once) is still anathema to her and Cole.

We are driving down to Wellington for the week (with the weekend first at Nana's house in Levin) and looking to leave at 4am. hmm, will let you know how that goes!!

I'm really looking forward to visiting the old stomping grounds, catching up with some lovely friends and family (half of whom I'm still to get in touch with...last minute Lucy, that's me!) and of course to check on our old house and to *visit* Atticus. I'm curious to see how much Cole and Immy remember from January. I suspect quite a bit, since they have been known to ask if *that's where baby Atticus is* when we drive past a particular cemetery out near Lake Rotoma. Of course, they primarily want to know if his buzzy beetles with the flying wings are still working! (and just as an aside, I am constantly bowled over, grateful and thrilled -and yes, a little teary - when I realise how gracefully Cole and Imogen include *baby Atticus* into their reality...that's he's a part of the family, and is welcomed as such, even though he isn't here with us in a physical sense. He isn't a constant topic of conversation by any means, but when someone talks about him, it's just utterly normal to do so. I love that. Almost feels like I have all my babies together at times like that.)

The photos prove that as far as Nature is concerned, Spring is here. Now I just wish the temperatures would come to the party!!!