I’ve never really been a “living for the weekend” kind of an adult.
Growing up, life was very routine based. Happily so. Weekdays was for school, Wednesday evenings were for Musikids (my church’s youth club for primary aged kids), swimming was on a Thursday, Saturday was generally for hockey, friends and part-time jobs, Sundays were for church in the morning, Grandad coming for lunch and tea on our knees in the evening.
When I became an adult and started my own jobs, I happened to fall into and then choose hospitality as my career path so all notions of weekends really didn’t mean much. Weekends generally meant work and my days off tended to centre around Wednesdays.
And now that I am part of the Daft Family Household, life has become happily routine-y again.
This time with weekdays for school and drama on Wednesday, Saturday for dance and shopping and Sundays for anything else.
Seeing as the weather was perfectly inclement today, we scooped Wee Daftie up after dance and had an afternoon of mooching, racking up steps as we window shopped our way through a shopping centre.
So in lieu of our walking story today not being that enthralling, let’s chat about one of my very favourite things.
I’m not going to go through all whole back story of how this gem came to be. Nor am I going to list all her glorious attributes. What I will do is chat about how she has been dealing with her loss. Because she has lost a little sister as much as we have lost a daughter.
All my girl has ever wanted was to be a big sister. For an only child and the youngest cousin, she has a kindness and patience for younger kids that is rare and beautiful. And she would be a brilliant big sister. No doubt in my mind at all.
It was really hard telling her what had happened.
She had been asleep when I was taken to the hospital by ambulance. Daddy Daftie took her to school as normal, explaining that I had been taken to hospital but that I was okay. I mean, we didn’t really know but we didn’t want to worry her until we knew what was going on.
I stayed in the hospital with Saoirse from Wednesday morning til Friday afternoon. Daddy Daftie came to stay while Wee Daftie was at school, at drama, at friends’ houses. (Her besties’ mammies are two very dear friends of mine who have been incredible to all three of us)
I didn’t want Daddy Daftie to have to bear the burden of telling Wee Daftie what had happened alone so we decided to tell her on the Friday when I was home and we could face it all as a family.
It’s really hard knowing you are going to break your 8 year old’s heart. I don’t recommend it.
She reacted exactly as I thought she would. As I knew she would. Just the three of us crying and trying to explain something that truly can’t be explained or reasoned or justified.
Her resilience and empathy have been outstanding. I’ve always been proud of her. It is very, very easy to be. But the way she has…existed through all this has been phenomenal.
She would see I was sad and would just cuddle up to me. She picks flowers and puts them beside Saoirse’s urn on the shelf. She wants to be the one to water the rose in the garden. She chose to come to the service we had for Saoirse. She has been brave and honest in her feelings. She has told people about her little sister. Not lots of people, just safe people, but she had told them.
We brought Saoirse to Dublin together and she helped scatter some of her. It was windy and wild with waves. Some of Saoirse flew before she landed safely in the sea.
I said to Wee Daftie, “Do you think she’ll be happy here?”
“Of course. She’s a mermaid now.”
I know I call her daft. And it is because she absolutely is. She is silly and funny and bouncy and twirly and magically, unapologetically 8 years old. But she is also kind, clever, resilient, tenacious and empathic to her core.
I don’t like that we have to go through this together but I am so glad that we have each other. And Daddy Daftie too of course.
Our steps target was happily met by the time we got home in time for tea.
Daddy Daftie is out for a jaunt tomorrow so the girls will have to tend to our own fun. I have a plan but it is very much weather dependent! So let’s cross fingers and toes for sunshine!
26 days done, only 4 left to go. Happy days.
https://www.justgiving.com/page/carolynne-murphy-3?newPage=true
Travels With My Daftie 