Somewhere, in an alternate reality, a universe parallel to my own, there is a mother preparing for a fifth birthday party. Her son is unwrapping presents and playing with new things. An older brother edging his way in, trying to sneak first plays that don’t belong to him. Perhaps there would be a younger brother, very close in age, helping unwrap. But he shimmers in this imagined reality – I am not quite sure he would be there.
This is not my reality. My reality is that my son was born five years ago and died two weeks later. My reality is his two brothers, older and younger, playing quietly upstairs while their mummy writes out her grief. Read more