My Aunty's Funeral

Today we attended my aunty's funeral.  My aunty is the first of my dad's siblings to die.  She was such an energetic, lively, bubbly,  and happy lady.  She is going to be missed a lot.  She was always the one to keep the family together in some ways (I think my nanna was the one who made sure the family attended functions, etc. but she died when I was 15.  She was 94, so she had a long life and lived 16 years after my grandfather died).  She died of a stroke just like my nanna.  When she had the stroke she said she would fight it, but it was too severe and she couldn't swallow anymore. 

I saw cousins today that I hadn't seen in years, in fact I didn't even recognise some of them.  My aunty had prepared for this day and wrote her own eulogy about a year ago.  It was beautiful.  She was able to say things that happened in her life that no-one else would know, or remember.  It was strange to hear her call my dad "their baby brother", it wouldn't have been "baby brother" if someone else had written it.

The thing is when I'm now at a funeral, I think about them meeting my Bailey in Heaven.  I hope so anyway.  I wonder if he's there, too, waiting for them to arrive.  Was he there to great her with her husband, daughter, her mum and dad?  Would she even know who he is? 

On the way home, my mum suggested that her ashes be scattered where Bailey's ashes are.  I told her not to do that, as I regret so much that I did that.  I have no where to go to visit him, and have that special time with him.

My First Dream

I've had my first dream of Bailey.  It wasn't comforting, in fact it was a bit scary. 

In my dream I was going through his memory box and came across his hand and foot prints.  As I was looking at the prints, his hand prints were slowly fading until they were gone.  I woke up then.

Not sure what it means, but why dream of losing his hand prints when that is just one of the few items I have to treasure. 

His hand print reminds me though of how sick he was.  The nurses couldn't open up his hands to get proper hand prints as they were completely clenched.

I hate that question???

Why can't I say that I have 3 children?  Why doesn't the number 3 pop right out?  Why after saying 2, do I instantly right at that very moment of saying 2, do I instantly want to kick myself for not saying 3?  Why is the question of how many children I have, hurt me so much?

Every time I feel like I'm not being truthful to my Bailey.  It's way too hard.  I love him just as much, yet why can't I say it out loud? 

Brodie wanted to hold one of Bailey's teddies a couple of days ago.  I told him he could as long as he was careful with it.  He held it, cuddled it, kissed it and returned it back on top of Bailey's memory box.  He's only 3, but I think he is starting to know that the photo of Bailey is precious as well as the things I have around his memory box.