Would you call me crazy if I told you the truth?
Would you think I am weird for the tiny rituals I do to remember my lost little girl?
If you knew I wondered if every butterfly I saw was my daughter,
If you saw me cuddling the stuffed elephant I bought her 4 days before she died, that sleeps beside my bed so if I wake up and want to hold it I can.
Do you wonder why I have so many stone Angels’ in and around my house?
Would you call me crazy if I told you I wake up in a frantic panic at times confusingly wondering where my baby is?
Would you think I am weird for gently touching the dried blood stains that I cannot wash off her blanket and hat?
If you knew I prayed for people to ask about her would you?
If you saw me talking, kissing, holding her picture, would you call me crazy?
Some might but I am ok with being a little crazy.
I am crazy for my living children, for my husband, why can’t I be crazy for my little girl whose life was so short but has touched me so hugely.
Call me crazy.
Away on a family trip, a beautiful butterfly just like this one, landed on my 2 year old daughter Hope, who we had after Lily died. She freaked out a little because the butterfly didn’t seem to want to leave her shoulder, all I kept thinking was – It’s ok Hope its your sister.
Thanks for reading,