Cameron

Can we please meet halfway?

“Rhonda wants Cam back.”

This was my Facebook status a couple of weeks ago.

Whenever I put something like this up, it’s always interesting to see who responds and who doesn’t, what people say and what they don’t say.

This particular time, an overseas relative of mine decided to leave a comment.

Was it a helpful comment? Probably not. After all, being told to move on is not necessarily what one likes to hear when you’re desperately missing your child.

But funnily enough, I wasn’t that hurt.

This struck me as quite unusual as I’m quite certain that the same comment a year and a half ago would’ve devastated me and perhaps even caused me to retaliate in notable fashion.

This is something that has noticeably changed over these last seventeen months since Cameron’s death.

Not that my sadness has diminished, but that my immunity to people’s unintentional insensitivity has somewhat grown stronger.

It doesn’t seem to bother me as much now when people say things that they probably wouldn’t have said if they’d taken the time to think hard about it.

This can only be a good thing, seeing as I’m sure a lifetime of insensitive remarks inevitably awaits us still.

I remember a friend who’d been through a similar loss telling us in the early days that he didn’t care at all what other people said or thought.

I had found his indifference amazing. There was no way I could’ve mustered the same impartiality. All those pointless sentiments like ‘move on’, ‘be strong’, ‘think positive’, and ‘you’re young, you’ll have other children’ simply frustrated and even enraged me at times.

But now in retrospect, I can see how God has strengthened me this last year and a half.

Still, I hope that as I become more resilient, people also become more sensitive.

Perhaps one day we might even meet half way.

(Note: This post is also published on Life without Cameron)

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Last week I relaxed and moved to Provence

On holidays last week I finally learnt to relax. Instead of the billion things I usually try to accomplish while we’re on a ‘break’, this time I somehow managed to whittle my task list down to three items, namely (1) complete February budget (2) organise downloaded photos in Aperture (3) update Cameron’s website. This meant I actually had time to lie around and do nothing. It was completely unprecedented. And it was amazing. And surprisingly fun. And so utterly invigorating. Maybe next time I might even only put two things on the list. Or perhaps not have one at all? No, that would be going too far.

Anyway, because I had time to relax, it also meant I had time to read. I’d brought along Mao’s Last Dancer but when the narrator finally arrived in Beijing, I unexpectedly lost interest in the book. So Rick handed me A Year in Provence from the bookshelf. I ummed and aahed for a long time – mainly because the cover looked rather tatty – but I eventually gave in when it became clear to me that I wasn’t going to be able to sit still for more than two minutes without something decent to read. And what a refreshing read it was – it was witty, descriptive and fresh and more importantly, it transported me to a place far, far away. For an hour or more everyday, I was able to pretend I lived in Provence. It is now on my list (yes, I love lists) of Fantasy Places to Move To, along with Japan and the Greek Islands.

In addition to the much needed R&R, Angus floored us on the fourth day by laughing for the first time! Rick had brought him into our bedroom early in the morning, and as he sat on daddy’s lap looking at the both of us, he let out his very first chuckle. We were so astounded we couldn’t help but laugh in response. And as we laughed, Angus continued his own chuckling, which incidentally sounded quite deep for a little baby (Rick thought that it might even have been deeper than his own). I wanted to record the moment so badly, but I didn’t want to risk missing out on any of it by reaching for the camera. I will never forget it though. It was so precious, I almost cried.

As always, we missed Cameron. It was not our first holiday without him but it was our first with Angus and somehow it made us miss Cameron all the more. Especially when we saw that the second bedroom had two single beds. It would’ve been Cameron and Angus’ room when they were older.

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