It's just a day.. a strange day.

august 15 2007

It's always strange to remember the birthday of someone who has died many years ago.
Especially when it's my own little baby.

Each years is different.
Some years I cry before, other years I cry after the day.
Now many people have forgotten about her the day is not broken by unexpected visitors that force me into keeping conversations going. I'm perfectly OK with that.

My few familymembers are out of the picture. They lead their life the way they want to, and it's not to me to vent my opinion about it. They have opinions enough sounding in eternity, none is waiting for mine to be added.

But on days like these it's strange people just don't bother to care.

Some online friends have been very kind.
This baby was expected with so much love, accepted with so much love.

It was strange to find mail on the doormat from the commission that had to allow the oldest to get the care he needs.
It's one of those paradoxical times in life when you mourn a child that could have had all the love and care in the world and passed away too soon, and to prepare for another child to leave the nest.
A child that couldn't cope with all the love and care he received. He (with his asperger syndrome) couldn't feel it all.

There's a bit of anger added to it.
I couldn't get no means of proper assistance all the years he lived here. 21,5 years.
Not even a specially educated babysitter.
I was the psychologist and mother, so I had to educate and guide my son, give him therapy and everything else. I had to stay awake 20 hours a day because he slept only 4 hours a night, or I worked around the clock with naps of 10 minutes, because he functioned best with an inverted day-night rhythm.

Now he's moving to a traininghouse, and probably into sheltered living afterwards, he can get all the help he needs.

Well, at least I can get more sleep now I'm moving into that part of life in which people sleep less.

I've spend the afternoon pruning trees in the front garden.
The rain of the last days gave some branches more than 20 cm extra, some 40 cm.
They looked like grapsing arms in the dark last night.
Now the trees look like proper town-trees again. Not too high, round.
I love high trees and I would have given them all room to grown of not the house owner will come with his big electric saw and kill them like they're just waste of nature when we leave this house.

So I make them behave, like I taught my children to behave ...not to disturb other people.

The day passed like a candle that slowly evaporates.

Wish my little girl had been able to stay longer.
She would have smiled to me, and maybe we had taken a long walk beneath the stars.