On the Sunday 15th September Ethan was very very unwell, but while I was changing his nappy he grabbed hold of my neck and would not let go.
He had grown so much in the last few months and he was just so solid, a lot bigger then he had been and so much more to cuddle.
I went to The Botanial Gardens again today, I have been there a lot over the last few days, taking the children with me and some friends.
Yesterday an older American couple approached us while we were in "Ethan's" Garden. They asked what the flowers were in aid of. I explained they were Ethan's flowers and that he had passed away recently. Th.e couple then explained that they had lost their daughter some years previous aged just 16 in a car accident. It was the anniversary of her death that weekend and at home in America there would be a memorial service in their church. They explained that their daughter had spent a year living in Cambridge with them previously but they had not managed to come back since her death. I gave them one of Ethan's memorial cards and a hug.
The mother explained that though the pain may fade, there will always be times when a memory comes flooding back and I will cry. She said she felt it was not until 10 years had passed since her daughter death that she was able to remember her daughter without crying so often.
Today as I walked around the gardens I was thinking of Ethan. Of the last time I had walked through the gardens with Ethan, just a few days before he died. Watching Ethan feed the ducks, Ethan had a good throw on him but when I gave the bread that some passer by had given us, he looked at it saw it was food and just threw it to the ground by his buggy.
I remembered sitting with Ethan in his pushchair by the entrance to the glasshouses. At that time he had yet another chest infection but in typical Ethan fashion was holding his own. I was singing to him softly "Twinkle twinkle" and "You are my sunshine" and shedding a tear at the thought of losing him.
The thought of him not being here seems ridiculous to me, the thought of not seeing him again is to unbearable to think about. Then I remember seeing him after he had passed. Then I know for certain he has gone.
At the same time I carry him with me all the time. I have a bracelet some good friends of mine bought when Ethan was n Addenbrookes hospital. It is a silver charm bracelet that has Ethan's hand and foot print on. I find myself hanging on to it so tightly.
I miss my smiling blonde curly head child. I miss his voice, the sing song in the morning. I miss his cuddles.