Saturday, 4 January 2014

A year and a day

Today it is a year and a day since I found out my baby girl, Lyra May, had died.

Though she only lived for 19 weeks, she changed my life forever. Not a single day has passed that I have not remembered her, both alive inside me, and afterwards, in my hands. I remain grateful to her for everything her tiny life taught me about the nature of the world, the nature of grief, and of love.
My tears for her are endless.

This year has been the longest and shortest of my life. On this day last year I could not imagine making it through to the end of the next hour, let alone an entire year into the future. But here I am. Here we are. And that has taught me something too.

My love to all who grieve.

Her footprints


  1. Remembering Lyra May with you, and sending so much love. Those footprints are beautiful. I am sorry she is not with you in the way you had hoped and dreamed. xo

  2. Thank you xxx
    She had the most perfect feet...

  3. Thinking of you and dear Lyra today. These anniversaries without them are so hard, although the grief gentles with time. Mine feels like an old sweater than I can wrap myself up in and breathe in Grace. Sending love and light.

  4. Nomi: your wonderful incandescent writing, your refusal to accept easy answers, and your steadfast insistence on looking your grief squarely in the face are a real strength and inspiration: thank you.

    1. Which means her mayfly life has meaning.

      Thank you with all my heart Charles xxx

  5. Remembering the journey, and sending love and hugs to you, Andy, and little Lyra. The journey goes on, but it does get easier. xxx

  6. I found you through Sadie's blog and this post brought tears to my eyes. Beautifully written and heartfully felt. Hugs.