Last Saturday, the 22nd of March, Tilly should have been two. She should have been toddling around, pinching Darcy’s toys, starting to chat, experiencing the seaside, swimming and the terrible twos. Instead? She is just a memory.

I have not been writing much on here, I know that not many people read it but sometimes it helps me to write things down. Maybe one day, someone will stumble upon it and it will help them too.

You see, the thing about the second birthday is that people don’t remember, because there’s no party, no cake, no presents. Just a sense of what if. And that’s sort of okay because if you don’t remind me, I won’t remember your birthday so, I don’t blame people for not realising. Yet it’s confusing for me because, despite that, it still upsets me, I want people to remember that I still miss her everyday. Sometimes I just need a hug.

On her birthday, we went with some family and friends to the seaside for a beach BBQ and fish and chips. It was freezing, and it felt like the craziest place to be, but it was lovely to share the day with people and not be sad. To remember the day we had Tilly, before we realised our world was about to come crashing down. A lovely thing happened, our friends son asked us what we would buy Tilly if she was here. It didn’t upset, it made me smile. He wasn’t afraid of upsetting me, he just wondered about Tilly, he wasn’t afraid to ask, because kids aren’t. It made my day. A note to his Dad: next year, I promised we can go somewhere warmer.