The more I have shared photos of myself on social media recently (as opposed to my preferred snaps of interiors!), the more I have been found that those photos have been met with comments about my appearance and how great people think I look.  This isn’t me blowing my own trumpet, quite the opposite, I feel like it’s more of a confessional really as to why my body, skin and general appearance have improved in recent months. It most certainly hasn’t been born out of a want to look different, I can promise you that; not that there would be anything at all wrong if it had.

This is a question I ask myself all too often.  How do I continue to be a “good parent” to Teddy when he’s not physically here anymore.  I know that once upon a time it would have been the done thing to simply forget about his existence, sweep it under the carpet and move on.  Thankfully we live in very different times, and I feel able and confident to speak his name.  Sometimes I try and say his name in sentences just because I can.  I love to hear it aloud; it reminds me that he was here.  My friends, of course, are very much used to this now, and they too use Teddy’s name as much as they would if he were alive; that makes me so very happy.  It also makes me feel like as much of a parent as they are, which can be so hard sometimes when you feel like you are on the outside staring into a life you have been robbed of.

I cannot help but notice lately the number of people who have begun to remark on how “well” I seem, and how it’s so great to see me looking so much happier again.  I won’t lie, I am beginning to find a piece of my happy again.  Dare I say, I’m even beginning to look forward to things again; to be able to plan more than a few days ahead, without those plans filling me with insurmountable angst.  Who will be there? Have I seen them since Teddy died?  Do they even know?  Will they be weird with me?  Please, PLEASE, not the sympathetic head tilt.  Yes, welcome to my inner dialogue.

A letter written to our darling Teddy, the day after his funeral service.  Wednesday 15th June 2016.

Dear Teddy,

Yesterday was as heart breaking as I had been expecting.  I feel numb.  These past four weeks have moved in slow motion as we have built up to saying our final goodbye.  The vicar was so lovely; he said so many things that made so much sense to me.  “Grief does not last forever, but love does.”  I think those words will stay with me forever; and I certainly hope that this feeling does not.  I know that our love for you will, all of our love.