Guest post by Jessica Smallwood
A peaceful place on a peaceful day. June 18th 2013. Our baby, Harriet, is now at rest. Her delicate ashes scattered under the most beautiful tree. She has been moved from pillar to post. From my body, the operating table, the mortuary, the funeral home, the crematorium and even the bookshelf in the lounge. Unsure what to do with her little urn, I have put it in the top of a bedroom cupboard. Maybe it’ll make its way to her memory box soon. For now it’s just fine where it is.
As I delicately shook the tiny urn it felt like I was releasing something. Letting go of the fear, the heaviness in my heart and the guilt. The anger, the confusion and the bitterness too. My husband and I took it in turns to scatter. I expected to cry but I didn’t. I smiled, smiled because I felt relief and comfort. Comforted by the beauty of Harriet’s new surroundings and relieved that we had laid her to rest. For this is where she will stay now. Peaceful, pretty and safe. We won’t ever meet her but that’s ok, really it is. Maybe we were never meant too. She was a gift to us all, if only for a very short time. There was a gentle breeze that day, just as we scattered. A breeze which reminded me how far we’ve come and how much life there is yet to live.