My friend, Charlotte

Dear Molly,

Autumn is once again upon us. The garden smelt of damp earth and the scent of  bonfires hung lightly in the air this morning. It always makes me want to write to you. It is my restorative and protective season, when we wrap ourselves up for winter. This post is part something I needed to do this year, to wrap myself up for winter. This autumn, you are almost 9 and I am 42, and you are my constant joy. 

2019 has, so far, been packed with both happiness and sorrow. I am writing to you about the sorrow, but to show you that the sorrow can also bring happiness. 

I lost my oldest friend, Charlotte, this year. You knew I was sad and your little hand on my arm was as much comfort as I could ever have wished for. You let me be sad and told me that it was "ok Mummy".

Me and Charlotte on a school trip c1987

When Charlotte was ill the first time around, I was terrified and angry. She didn’t cry. I couldn’t stop. She handled her treatment as best she could and I was so flipping proud of her. She overcame the worst of ordeals and came out the other side, the very same girl who had embarked on that journey. We celebrated and I took her for the spa day that I had promised her all those months before, at the start of her treatment. We had a perfect day and Charlotte made me laugh constantly. She never believed that she belonged in 'fancy' places but she appreciated it so much which filled me with joy.  

Me and Charlotte on our fancy spa day in August 2018

It would only be a handful of months before Charlotte would tell me, on my birthday this year, that the illness was back, and that it was incurable. Maintaining consistency, she was amazing, and I couldn’t stop the tears. I asked a million questions. I said I was sorry and I looked for some hope. I travelled back and forth to Norwich and I spent time at her bedside. It was during that time that she asked me to never forget her. It was the hardest exchange I have ever had. I cried all the way home. This post is to help me to fulfill my promise to Charlotte, to never forget her, and for you, my daughter, to never forget with me. I watched Charlotte go to sleep for the final time. She passed away a few days after I had seen her and only 6 weeks after telling me the news. It was March 2019. 

I can still feel the physical gap that Charlotte has left inside me. I would never wish the grief that I felt, on you, but, as sure as the sun will rise and fall, you will experience loss in your lifetime. I want you to know that it is ok and not to be scared. That is why I am telling you about Charlotte, my friend, who I lost.

You, me, Hannah & Charlotte in March 2017 in Cambridge

Charlotte was one of those friends that you could go to with anything. She was my rock. She was so very grateful for her friendship with me and I will never stop being grateful for mine with her. I could tell her that my tummy ached and she’d take time out from her day to find a way to cheer me up. Or I could tell her that my whole life was collapsing and she’d pack some cake, get in the car and drive over. She saw me through the toughest time in my life with brutally honest compassion and humour. She was just so blooming real, like the Velveteen Rabbit:

“Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.'

'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit.

'Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. 'When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.'

'Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,' he asked, 'or bit by bit?'It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.” - Margery Williams Bianco, The Velveteen Rabbit

Charlotte was everything a friend should be and I loved her for it. 

Some things just strip you to your very core, and this was one of those things. It was the rawest emotion I have ever felt. Whilst it physically hurt, I was, I am, still amazed by it too. There is no shame in allowing your heart to break. Your body will heal and where the breaks were, you will grow more resilience. That’s how I feel anyway. You are put back together a little bit stronger. The grief of losing Charlotte knocked me sideways and I was completely unprepared. And now, 6 months on, I can still lift the lid on that grief so easily and the tears will flow in an instant. But I can put the lid back on too. I have learnt to sit with my feelings. Let them come and go, like waves on the shoreline, and seek joy in the memories. Charlotte was so very special and I would choose to have her friendship and lose her, than never to have had it at all, every day of the week. 

So my darling Molly, always remember that to be vulnerable is not a weakness and to feel pain is part of life. Never hold it in or feel ashamed. Sadness makes us real, just like the Velveteen Rabbit, and you should embrace that.

Charlotte thought the absolute world of you. In one of her last messages to me we were talking about you and she wrote:

"She's a kind girl. We bloody lucked out didn't we"

She was right, as always. I did luck out with you and I hope that you always remember Charlotte through these pictures and my stories. I love you, and her, eternally.

We wrote 'Charlotte' in the sand at Covehithe in February and threw the stone into the sea. Charlotte loved the sea xx

“My heart has joined the Thousand, for my friend stopped running today.” - Richard Adams, Watership Down 

An ordinary Sunday

Nothing much happened today. I love you more than I am capable of every single day but, today, I loved you a little bit more. I don't know why. I wanted to cherish the feel of your little hands in mine, the smell of the top of your head and your arms around my neck. 

You and me today, in the hanging egg chair

You chatted incessantly on the way to the cinema today. You asked me if my car was a front or rear wheel drive and then explained the benefits of a 4 wheel drive! You told me that you still wanted to be a chef but asked if it might be possible to be an astronaut too. And anyway, you do like space so that might be the better option, and, if you were a chef too, you could cook in space. 

At the cinema you sat transfixed for the whole of Finding Dory. Afterwards you said that you were so happy for Dory as she finally had her friends and her family. You said that Dory's mummy and daddy must have loved her a lot to have stayed at home laying shells out for her to find her way back. 

We painted pictures and chilled out together for the rest of the day. It's my struggle, not yours, but today I didn't want you to go to bed, or grow up. I wanted to hold you near me forever. Having you has taken me to places in my heart that I didn't even know were there. I'll always lay shells out for you. We're not so different, Dory's mummy and me x

“We will never forget you, Dory. And we know you will never forget us.” ~ Dory’s mum

"Fiddlesticks" & politics

You dropped something the other day and said, "oh fiddlesticks!" It sounded strange coming out of the mouth of my little three year old girl. I asked you where you heard that word. You giggled and said, "I just made it up Mummy." I'm not sure that you did but I don't need to dispute it.

Now it's Sunday and I am reading the papers in my favourite room listening to you playing with your Sylvanian Families in the lounge and doing all of their voices. It's a calming place for me. Although the news is not very calm. Let's hope the political storm brewing in Ukraine and Russia blows away as quickly as it arose. My peaceful Sunday is so at odds with what I am reading about and I wonder how you ever go from pushing a toy platypus around in the basket of your Sylvanian badger's bicycle to ordering submarines and battleships to the brink of war. 

So, as I caught up with the grave and escalating situation in Crimea, you interrupted to ask if I could help you to "put this police outfit on my baby dormouse please mummy?" 

A welcome distraction from the world's political unrest. 

We then got ready to go out. "Our feet are not the same size Mummy", you exclaimed. I replied, "no sweetie, yours are three and mine are thirty seven. You responded with, "one day when I am bigger like you, my feet will be thirty seven too. Will they Mummy?" 

"Yes baby, they will"

We had a lovely lunch with Wilbur, Monty and their gorgeous mummies. You loved being the biggest and therefore "in charge" and you also loved that the babies mummies did, indeed, love your red tights as you'd hoped they would when we chose them this morning. 

I hope you three can grow up in safe and peaceful times. Although I think we need to be realistic about the world and keep a balanced viewpoint. We must learn from our history and pay attention to others' histories. History will shape our future.

"Those who can win a war well can rarely make a good peace and those who could make a good peace would never have won the war." ~ Winston Churchill

"Oh bother", you said

I love your language. I try to encourage you to use wholesome, old fashioned words. It sounds so sweet when you say, "oh bother" when something goes wrong. Although I can't take the credit for that as it's not one I use. I approve though. It's "pardon", not "what" and "yes" not "yeah". I know you won't listen to me forever so I will continue to lead by example in the hope that you follow of your own volition. You just thanked Right Bunny for 'helping' you onto the bed (apparently) "Thank you Righty. You are a very big help to me." Your bond with that old rabbit is stronger than ever and I'm curious as to when that strength might wane. But right now it warms my heart how much you still love that inanimate, tatty old thing.  

It was my birthday today. I asked if I could do your hair in a ponytail. You said, "another time Mummy." I protested on the basis that it was my birthday and you said, "don't worry Mummy. You can do my ponytail on your next birthday." You never just say "no". It makes me happy that you always deliver your refusal with a sweetner. A common, slightly lazy, example when I object to your refusals is, "that doesn't matter if I don't do it Mummy. I still love you." Sweet, but wily.

You like to clean your teeth yourself now. You told me very excitedly tonight "when I am bigger Mummy my tooth will fall out. I will put it under my pillow and the tooth fairy will come and take it away and leave me a shiny gold coin." I wish I could write the expression and excited tone in your voice. It got higher and louder and faster and faster. You were just so pleased to be sharing this 'new' information with me and your little hands were going nineteen to the dozen as you explained what will be happening. 

I'm watching you fall asleep now, with Righty and Ted. I love you darling. Sweet dreams.

"If you can dream it, you can do it. Always remember that this whole thing was started with a dream and a mouse." ~ Walt Disney Company

I love you a little bit more today

It sounds silly. It might be because you let me put your hair in a pony tail (you never normally do and I had to bribe you with a chocolate button). You look a bit more grown up somehow. So pretty. But more little girl than toddler.

You've been quite pensive today and asking a lot about when you were a baby. We tried to talk about before you were born. You couldn't grasp the concept. 

"But where was I then Mummy?" 

"You didn't exist then sweetheart. It was before you were born?"

"But where was I?"

"You weren't anywhere?"

"Was I all alone somewhere?"

"No baby. You were with me."

We had a big hug and decided to talk about that another time.

You've been a bit scared of things today. The cross rotten tomato in Bubbleguppies upset you this morning. I'm not sure you'll be an adrenalin junkie when you're older. You like things on an even keel. You're only 3 though. Plenty of time to develop a liking for adventure! 

Hiding from the whale in Wonderpets this afternoon

Feeding the ducks today

Mummy jumped in puddles too

Your Mummy 

We didn't do much today but your grown up hair, questions about being a baby, and fear of mean tomatoes all made me love you a tiny bit more x

A bloggers award....

This is a bloggers award which you get nominated for by other bloggers and it's a nice way of sharing blogs you like with others. All you have to do is...

+ Link back to nominator
+ Write 11 facts about yourself
+ Nominate 10 bloggers (less than 200 followers) and let them know!
+ Create 10 questions for nominees

So, my nomination comes from my ever so slightly biased friend, Louisa, but she does loves my blog and hers is fab too :) http://www.myfamilyandabruzzo.com/

I am nominating Bex Harding. Her baby boy has Talipes like my Molly and I've enjoyed reading her journey with Talipes and everything else in her life. Very honest and real. http://busybeemummybex.blogspot.co.uk/

 
11 FACTS ABOUT ME

1. I used to be an Army Cadet Force instructor

2. I was born in Margate, Kent

3. My (now very public) guilty pleasure is Made in Chelsea

4. My favourite film is Arthur Hiller's Love Story (1970) - it's the saddest story but the most beautiful film

5. My top 3 favourite places I've been to are New York, Rome and Abruzzo

6. I like painting (pictures, not walls)

7. I would love some red shoes but have never found the perfect pair. I'll keep looking.

8. I knew I was going to have a daughter (and I don't believe in all that superstitious nonsense)

9. My dream is to write a book

10. I love Yorkshire

11. Tracey Emin fascinates me and Caitlin Moran makes me laugh

Louisa's questions to me:

What would be your last supper?

Roast lamb with everything!
Who is your favourite author and why? (can't choose so, I'm cheating with 2)
Charlotte Bronte - because she wrote Jane Eyre, she gained critical acclaim against all the odds and her books have inspired me at every phase of my life

Joanne Harris - because Chocolat is so good that I feel I know Vianne and Anouk as friends. That's when a story becomes art. When you see yourself in it. 

What is your favourite painting? 

John Everett Millais' 'Ophelia'

You can spend the day in London, where do you go?
It would be summer! I'd go to the Tate Gallery, walk by the river and have lunch in the park. I have always wanted to visit the Charles Dickens Museum so I should probably do that on my imaginary trip and, as there's so much time in my imagination, I'd also look round St Paul's cathedral and have tea at The Ritz! 
If you could live anywhere in the world you wanted, where would that be?
Clearly throwing practicalities to the wind here but I would live in Paris, in an old townhouse, with window boxes full of flowers, opposite a bakery and coffee shop, with a balcony which you can see the Eiffel Tower from. Not much to ask....

Money and success, or dream job and happiness?
I am going to go for success, dream job and happiness. Can I do that? 
If you could cure/solve one thing in the world, what would that be?
Cancer
If you could be fluent in a second (or third) language, what language would you choose?
Italian
Hong Kong or Tokyo?
Hong Kong
Happiness is......

Being content with no worries

My questions:

- Where would your dream holiday be? 

- What music makes you happy?

- If you won £1m, what's the first thing you'd buy?

- And where would you live?

- If you were Prime Minister for a day, what would you change?

- What's your earliest memory?

- What's your favourite ever TV show?

- If you could turn a book into a film, which hasn't been done before, which book would you choose? 

- City or countryside?

- if you could go for coffee with anyone in the world...?