Remembering You

In all honesty, in the hours before the Coldplay concert I really couldn’t have cared less if I went or not. My youngest daughter at the time had been sick. I hadn’t slept in a couple of days and I hadn’t really heard much of their new album. I had seen them many times before and of course they would come again but I felt obliged to go. My Aunty had bought me the ticket {yes she is just that beautiful}. Little did her or I know just how much of a gift this ticket would really be for me. My Dad AKA the coolest guy on Earth drove me into the concert as I was so sleep deprived that it would have been ridiculous for me to get behind the wheel of a car. I met up with my two gorgeous cousins and we headed in for what would be the concert that would bring me back to myself.

We walked into the stadium. The base of Viva La Vida pulsated through my veins. It was so incredibly intense. My heart raced as for a minute I thought we had missed the beginning of the concert, but we hadn’t. It was just a remix playing to get the crowd pumping. My heart continued to race though. I felt nervous as though I was getting ready to jump out of a plane. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I felt this way. Coldplay opened with Life in Technicolour

and the atmosphere in the stadium screamed out at me “Where have you been Carly?!”

It was like I had been brought back to life and the overwhelming sense of joy that I felt allowed tears to spill from my eyes and my skin prickled with goose bumps. From the first song I decided that I was going to allow myself to feel the happiness that was being thrown my way. For 2 years and 32 days I had felt guilty for feeling any sense of joy at all. How could I allow myself to be happy when my son was dead? It had been forever since I had ventured out of the house to go to a live gig. This was something I used to do all the time. But since Christian died I felt no urge to go out and listen to live music. I just couldn’t be bothered. That part of me had died too. What was the point?

As I sat back and watched thousands of coloured paper butterflies be released from the sky during Lovers in Japan I found myself again. My love for art, my love for beauty, my love for the unknown and all things wonderous. I remembered that I had a spirit and that she was still alive, she was in fact there standing right in front of me. I felt like I could burst I was that excited to see her.

In the middle of the concert Chris Martin played an instrumental piece on the piano, it was only very short but it took my breath away and as I closed my eyes I felt Christian’s presence surround me.

I could hear him asking me to stop existing and to start living again because that way he would be able to live through me as well.

When I got home and looked up the set list from the concert on the internet, I found that the instrumental piece that was like a love letter sent to me from my son was in fact called Postcards From Far Away. How incredibly fitting.

I think as bereaved mothers we place all of our energy into preserving the memory of our babies and children that we forget ourselves. We forget who we are, what we love. My lifeline was music, yours might be something else. Art, cooking, exercising, dancing, singing. Whatever it is, it is still alive in you, it just needs to be reawakened. We are different now.We will never be the same but we are still ourselves and there are fragments of us still around, they can be found in the most unexpected of places like a Coldplay concert. The broken pieces of our personalities are carried with us always, they can be put back together and made into something different just like the pieces of a broken vase or mirror that make up a mosaic.

We may be shattered but we are still beautiful. We are here to live and it is my intention to live this life to the fullest – for I am not just living for me anymore – I am living for him too.


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    Carly

    Carly

    I'm just a girl from Australia with a serious love for chocolate and pancakes. You can find me drawing at the beach with my gorgeous daughters. I blow kisses out to the sunset each night to my little boy who never got to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. I write about heaven and how I find fragments of it here in the most unexpected places. You can find me on Facebook, Pinterest or my Blog.

    June 24, 2016

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