Sad eyes

It's been a while... apologies.

Ever had one of those moods where you just hate everyone and everything?

There's no real cause for the anger so there's no aim, it just hits anyone who's in your path.

Of course there are people who deserve the anger, that bully from high school, that boy who broke your heart... but they aren't here right now so these random strangers on the train will have to do.

I don't look angry. I look sad.

I remember the morning after a break up I sat at the kitchen table. Stirring cheerios in my bowl with no appetite to eat it. 

I just started crying. There was no trigger. Noone had said anything I just sat in silent.

My dad who was reading the paper, put it down, got up and gave me a hug.

This was a big deal, he wasn't a hug person and being over 6ft tall it felt like being in the arms of a giant.

It both did and didn't help at the same time.

It didn't stop my heart hurting but for a few seconds I felt safe when I was so fragile.

My mum rushed into the kitchen, doing some dishes, moaning about my three younger brother running riot in the room next door when she turned and looked at me. 

She held me tightly which then made me cry even harder and said

"I wish I could take the pain away"

That is how I feel everyone see's me when I'm like this.

Even when I'm rude to people for being in my way and feel like I'm being the moodiest cow in the world, complete strangers turn and give me that sympathetic smile.

That same look in their eyes that my Mum and Dad had that day.

I guess sometimes even with your bravest moodiest face, you can't hide those sad eyes.

I should probably explain why I'm sad but I'm sure you've already guessed.

I miss my sister.

No matter how much you love someone, it isn't even close to how much you're going to miss them when they're gone...

and I loved my sister a hell of a lot.

Charlotte- The beginning

Don't worry I'm not going to tell you my whole life story. 

To be completely honest my life has years of very uninteresting events.

I thought I'd start to give an over view, a back story if you wish to show how we ended up here.

Now where do I begin...

My mum (Sarah) married my dad (Tom) and by all means happy.

They had their first child which was a boy named Adam (My brother). Adam was very well behaved, quiet and always happy with a big grin on his face. Obsessed with trains and dinosaurs but never really spoke.

Two years later they had their second child, a girl named Amy (That's me). Adam wasn't interested in me at all, apparently he didn't even like me till I was two or three. I was not like Adam. I was naughty, cheeky and a lot of trouble but I dressed like a girly girl with dresses and matching hats. That's my mums fault.

Just under 2 years later my mum was pregnant with her third child. The bump was different. It was smaller. There had been no sign that there was anything wrong with the baby but when Charlotte was born, everyone was shocked.

She was this tiny baby, born full term yet weighed only 5 pounds. The doctors raced her away to be checked over as there were clear obvious signs something was wrong. The doctors came back with a list to the floor with things wrong with her, My mum had just gone through labour, spent 9 months uncomfortable and the baby wasn't right.  She was angry, grieving for the perfect baby she thought she had.

A neighbour and good friend came to visit with a soft toy for the baby. My mother angry and emotional told her what was the point, her baby wasn't perfect and she cannot look after a disabled child. My neighbour looked at her and sternly said the words that made my mum change how she saw things.

"She is still your child"

Charlotte wasn't perfect but she was loved with everything my parents had. Having a disabled child is really hard but having one with no warning, that is terrifying. 

I am so proud of my mum for becoming the person she is now, she was always there for Charlotte even when things got hard. 

A very strong woman.

Memorial day

There I am stood in this white walled room. 

Surrounded by other families.

All pleasantly talking to each other, exchanging smiles and drinking tea.

What thing do we all have in common?

All these families. Lost a Child.

My eyes begin to water and I try to down my coffee as if it would stop the tears. 

Embarrassed by my puffy red eyes I turn my back to everyone, acting like I'm reading a notice on the wall.

"How to cope with the loss of a child"

well that didn't help

A support worker who worked closely with my family came over to talk to us, asking questions about how we'd been.

Whilst I tried to hide my face and wipe my eyes it was no good, eventually I had to turn around.

That smile on her face soon turned from happy to pity.

I suddenly had so many arms around me.

"This is a safe place" she said

I'm now crying hysterically, my eyes search around the room and see all these other families with the same pity smile.

Why was it so hard?

Why was no one else this much of a mess?

The last time I was in that room, was Charlotte's funeral.

This building was where she died. 

It was where I lived for most of last year.

The staff all knew me, recognised me.

There's still my painting I did with Charlotte hanging up in the hallway. 

The smells, The colours, The heartbreak.

One thing was missing, the one thing that always brought me back to this place.

I used to sit by her bed all day, I'd have my breakfast, lunch and dinner there.

She'd only be awake for a few hours each day but I'd be there.

I'd hold her hand when she was scared, I'd sign to her when she wanted explanations.

I have a clear purpose.

I'd always had that same purpose.

Growing up me and Charlotte were just a year apart and I was the strongest signer in the family.

I never left her side.

I'd translate so she could talk to others, I'd look after her when she was ill and I'd protect her.

I couldn't protect her from this.

I had one purpose in life, one true duty and I failed.

What am I supposed to do now without her?