To you my Daughter, Nikita. A tribute to you on your birthday

Its that time of year between Christmas and New Year. For many they are losing track of what day it is. It’s a bit like that for me only in Spain life only stops for Christmas on the day itself, New Years Day and 6th January. Although for me the 30th December is very poignant. It’s my Daughter Nikita’s birthday. She was born in 1997, I remember the day well, I was there at her birth, I held her first, and when she opened her eyes for the very first time she looked straight into mine. We looked at each other as if we had met before and she knew I was her dad. It was a beautiful moment, one I’ll never forget and think about each day as I wake.

Nikita fell asleep for the last time in this world on 27th September 2018. Again, another day I will never forget, a day in my life that has influenced the way I am. At the time lots of people said lots of lovely comforting things to try and help me see a way forward. Some I found difficult to understand and others that gave me a sense of hope that I will get through the rest of my life in some way or other. One of the words of comfort was from my husband. He said, ‘Nothing anyone says can make it any easier to soothe the pain of grief, but over time you will learn that this pain that you are feeling now will feel less sharp, it won’t go away but it will feel less sharp’. He was right, I am in a constant state of grief, but its isn’t as sharp as it was in 2018. It will always be there, its me and the reality is no matter what anyone says, you never get over the loss of a child, its stays with you every day until you die. I accept this, there is no good in trying to put the loss of a child out of your mind. If anything for me that would be worse, I would genuinely feel that I was trying to forget all about my daughter, for me it I’m pretty certain would trigger a guilt complex at prominent times of the year when memories flood back.

Last night as I went to bed I thought at 12 I shall put a tribute to Nikita on my Facebook page, like I have done for her other missed birthdays, in the form of replacing my profile picture with hers. It was 11:47, I had 13 minutes to choose a photo of her. I found the photo in less than 20 seconds. It’s the same beautiful photo I use on every occasion. One of her with a golden glow.

At exactly midnight I post my tribute on Facebook, put the bedside lamp out and tuck myself in for the night. My tribute in this way is one of the ways that allows me to keep her memory alive. This is my way of doing it, I will do it for as long as I shall live. I don’t do it for reaction. I do it for memory. Memory of Nikita. As you can imagine when I woke up in the morning I woke to number of reactions and comments. Beautiful comments, comforting comments. I don’t do it for the reactions or comments, just for my own memory and memorial of my daughter.

I know some people may think my tributes extend my grief, but I its my way of memorialising my daughter, and I accept I will always have grief no matter what, its not going anywhere until I’m in a box. I also know that some people are uncomfortable when I talk about my daughter and feel I should have gotten’ over her death by now, I can tell from the look on their faces, their body language, their silence face to face or in my online public tributes. But the fact is I will not get over the death of my daughter, the pain will only feel less sharp as time goes on. What I tend to find is those that feel uncomfortable with this are like leaves on a tree, they only last the season, the wind blows off them off the tree in autumn and they disappear. I make no apology of my grief and tributes for my daughter no matter how uncomfortable people feel about the inevitable. You are a leaf on the tree, in autumn you will blow away and disappear…….

I did wake this morning to a very thoughtful message from my younger brother to say he was thinking of me. I was touched by is kind words and thoughts. As the day has gone on I’ve had lots contact from friends but strangely I haven’t heard off any of my family, maybe they have forgotten my daughter. Maybe I have to accept this is what they want, they do not want to remember my daughter like I do. They feel enough time has passed. They are getting on with their lives. I too am getting on with my life, I have a husband with me at every step of the way, picking me up when I fall with the grief or in other ways my daughters falling asleep for the last time has affected me. But I will not forget Nikita in this world.

One comment I had today was from a former colleague in the Civil Service. I’m not sure what she had missed over the last 7 years but the comment she made asked ‘What has happened’ like as if she thought something had only just happened to Nikita. I had to send her a private message to explain. However, I wanted to explain it in the way I like to think how Nikita fell asleep for the last time. That two Angels called her name and took her way in their arms surrounded by warmth, love, comfort and a heavenly glow. The glow like that is on Nikitas face in my favourite photo of her.

As each missed birthday passes I can only memorialise you, Nikita, in this world. That’s all I have got left, I cannot send you a card of buy you a gift. But as you know I live in eternal hope in joining you in paradise and seeing your beautiful face in person again. A moment I am remined of each time I watch the film Brooklyn with Jim Broadbent as the catholic priest Fr Flood and Saoirse Ronan as Eilis Lacey. There is a scene that reaffirms my belief I will see you again. Eilis, lives in Brooklyn, her sister in Ireland passes away suddenly, Fr Flood has to break the news to her while at work. There isn’t time for Eilis to return home for the funeral, it had already taken place. She says to Fr Flood “but I will never see my sister again”. Fr Flood replies “now you know I cannot tell you that will be true”.

Its Fr Floods somewhat matter of fact but reassuring in the catholic sense that I will see you again. And I will.

You are forever 20.

With all my love as always Nikita, until we meet again may god bless you and keep you.