Dear Daughter




 I’m writing this from the living room. I want to write to you every day if I can, to show you how much you were missed in the years in between us. 

Today I don’t have much to say. Some days the grief is overwhelming. There are days like this when all I can say is that I am thinking of you and that you are missed. 

The pain of being apart from you can weigh heavy. It is an ache from my fingertips, to my toes. It settles at the bottom of my stomach and rests there. 

I don’t hide this pain now to be seen as brave or in fear that it could be said I crumbled without you. 

A pain such as this cannot be number or hidden or imagined away. I wait instead for it to pass. 

I know if our separation hurts me like this, then it must have physical effects on you. I think that is why, every time the weight of the pain of missing you subsides, I feel the love and compassion I have for you and it wills me to go on. 

The depth of suffering they have plunged us both into will meet every time the fathoms of my love. 

How will this all end? My heart asks this often. I only feel my body answer, the light fill the living room once more as the snow falls. My body replies with love, from the tips of my fingers to my toes, rising from my chest and the place above where the pain is. 

Another day without you must be another closer to you. 

Love Mummy 🐶 

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