Tiny Hands

Everything is louder and clearer – the clock ticking, the traffic outside and silence in the house and within us is deafening. After ten years, the happiest four days are now resting in peace, in a castle in a cloud, like from the song in Les Miserables, I hope there is a woman in white to hold you and sing at night. We are still here, suspended in time – as it goes on without you. Without you there is an indefinite age, of hope, of wait, of loss… and of whatever else this all is. A lump in my throat, whenever I think of you cannot be all I remember you by.

I need to mark this with something, I didn’t get to speak to you – so I’ll just send you my words and imagine your smile, the way you smelt and your tiny hands. It is a miracle that you came and it is with great sadness that we let you go; watch down on us from where you are.

May you rest in peace, our most beloved baby cousin.


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