Thoughts and experiences of a grieving mother
Letters to my son Joah. I write them, he doesn’t read them. At least, that’s what I assume or in heaven something must have been invented for illiteracy in babies. Perhaps Jesus reads them as a bedtime story, although I can imagine something more exciting than the thoughts and experiences of a grieving mother. I’m publishing them because it might be of some use to you or someone around you.
Chatting with you, the week you were with us I did it a kind of non-stop. For hours I was staring at you, your beautiful hands, your feet, your face that I recognized as if I already knew what you would look like. On May 11, 2020 you were stillborn and besides that it was very quiet, my world shook to its foundations. I became a mom! Yours! All your life I was your mom and all my life I will be. And mommies chat to their sons until it drives them crazy. In my letters to you I tell you all kinds of things: about my crazy self, your wonderful father, your little brother Jaèl (who is 14 months younger than you) and of course about Thijs, our most loyal, loving, furry member of the family, who undoubtedly would have been your best friend. There will probably be no logic in the letters I write to you, because my brain (and mourning) just doesn’t make sense. And maybe I do it more for myself than for you, but I miss you and in this way you feel just a bit closer.Love, mom