I am sorry darling.
I read your words every day,
If you seem bright I try to think of funny things to say.
If you seem down I grasp whatever comfort comes my way.
And I worry every time that what I say is wrong.
For I can not begin to understand.
This is for me the hardest part.
For words, I know, can only go so far.
But know this - you are never that poor lady to me.
You are a mummy who is struggling with grief.
And in some terrible parallel universe that could easily be me.
I think you need the time to grieve.
To shout to yell to cry to scream.
Bloody loss and this is real.
And how I wish you weren't here,
that I knew not of pain or tears.
That I saw not your image on my screen.
For that would mean that she was here.
That would mean that none of this was real.
I'm sorry Jennie.
Just know that I am here... x