Same but Different.

Another Mummy who'd lost her beautiful daughter said to me 'It's as if you've been spat back into another Universe where everything looks exactly the same but feels so different". Oh how I hear her.

We walk in the same shoes, travel the same roads and go to sleep under the same stars yet everything feels unfamiliar. Crayton said weeks ago, "the light is different". And yes, it is. I could not have imagined a life without her, I still can't, except that is what I have, every single day, a life without her. We are bearing the unbearable. It still seems so completely unreal.

I ponder the week before her accident and remember we had some really beautiful days. One week before we dressed the girls up and took them to Sanctuary Cove where we shared cake and laughter and discussed how we would spend many more days doing just that...

The next day we took Luca, Mason and Ava to Shearwater Crescent - our favourite beach haunt - and really, really enjoyed watching them run around as a little trio. I took lots of photos and when I proofed them I found a favourite but had no idea that it would mean so much to us only a week later. To us, Daddy's back was turned and Ava is being called...she's looking to the sky with such wonder and acceptance and happiness..We had it at her service and it hangs in our loungeroom.. At times, it brings us comfort.

The day before Ava's accident was Ivy's first day at kindy. Ava was so excited about showing her the ropes and proudly led the way in that morning. They played on the carpet while I took photos. This is the last image I took of Ava. It's not great technically but of course it's one of the most valuable images I have.

One more thing I wanted to share..

For months, I had been gathering ideas for a new business website. I had a definate idea of the theme I wanted - vintage - and had pretty much designed the entire site short of choosing the final logo. On Saturday morning, at 10.30am, I sat down at the pc to begin putting my ideas together. For some reason, instead of working with what I'd had in mind, I started to put together something completely different, based around Ava. I didn't think too hard about it, I just put it down and even down to the quote at the bottom - I was just driven to get it all down just as you see it here. I even chose pink for the font soley because it was Ava's favourite colour. I have no idea why I designed something so completely different to my ideas. I worked on it up until noon with Ava right beside me, driving me crazy asking a million questions as usual.. :)

When I came back the following week to start collating photos for the funeral slideshow, I sat down and turned the screen on and this was sitting there, right where I'd left it on Saturday, an hour before the accident.

I used the image and the quote on the front of her funeral service booklet.

I am grateful for these moments in the week before..they're not enough, but I'm glad for them.

Yesterday I accidentally deleted my entire Inbox.

I can't begin to even try and think about what's lost - I have received so many beautiful emails over the past month that I had looked forward to returning one day soon..

I'm currently taking some time out from the technical World - pc, phones..etc etc, just to restore a little..but if anyone who did write to me would like to quickly send me a line to just give me their email address again, I'd appreciate it very much.

S xxxx

The Journey, The Regrets, The Gifts.

I've really struggled with the idea of updating my blog - I just don't know where to start or where to finish.. I can't imagine that I ever will post again about what photos I took that day or what funny things the kids did or how crazy they drove me...that sounds too much like a normal day in a normal World. The one I used to have. It's a faint memory and an even fainter hope for the future.

Jennifer said think of a firefly. I'm in a pitch black room, the deepest darkness, yet if I squint long enough, peer hard enough, dare to hope enough, I might just find a firefly. Some days I think I see it...if only for a moment. I try to imagine a day where we live once again as a complete family, with days that include lots of laughter and plans and happiness. That Ava would be our beautiful angel Super-Princess, watching over our new, different but happy family. That she would smile along with us and that it would be okay. Okay would be enough.

But then, most of the days I can't even imagine the firefly. It's not there. Some days I don't even want it to be.

I could write endlessly about Ava. The reason I won't here is because I want to record it all by hand. I have bought the most beautiful leather bound journal, pink of course, and I want it to be with me at any moment. To be passed on. For my great grandchildren to have a glimpse of the wonder that was Ava.

I will share a little though about these three things.


The Journey.

Anyone who knows me already knows what a girly girl I am. And therefore, just how much it mean to me to have a girl. Of course, there is no doubt my boys are my everything too, but I would never have stopped having children until I had a girl. When the scan man told me she was a she, I gripped his arm, looked into his eyes and hissed that he must not tell me that unless he meant it. Unless he was really, truly sure. I even went back a month later and did the scan all over again, just to hear those words one more time..

I spent weeks, nay months, getting her nursery ready. I ordered linen from the US. I hand painted her furniture. I turned an average suburban bedroom into a PALACE. It was everything I'd ever wanted. Complete.

Her birth was wonderous. She arrived into water, into the arms of her Daddy and her aunty Angie. I took her home and marvelled. For three years and almost six months, we marvelled. We adored and spoilt and thanked the stars that we had been so damn lucky.

She was everything I had ever wanted in a girl and more. She LOVED her clothes, she LOVED pink, she LOVED lipstick. She could out-girl me anyday. She was so beautiful to look at, we would just stop and stare, so often, and no matter how many photos of her I'd already shown Crayte from that day's shoot, I'd have to show him "just one more". She was so loved at kindy and when she'd arrive home smelling of Miss Bernicey's perfume with some elaborate hairstyle, I'd smile knowing she'd been cuddled and fussed over that day.

Her grandad taught her "You Are My Sunshine" and to hear her sing it would make you melt, honestly. She was clever too - she adjusted the words to suit the audience so the last line would always be "Please don't take my ****(audience member) away". I only said a few weeks back that I needed to get it videotaped (I never did). She was so loving to her brothers and sister - she would hear Ivy wake on the monitor and rush in saying "It's okay darling, it's okay". Once Luca scared her wearing a halloween mask and she burst into tears but then rushed at him with her arms out, softly pleading "Luca, please don't scare me". She was so sweet and beautiful and amazing. We called her "Amazing Ava".



The Regrets.

I know people say not to have them. That they are pointless and will drive me mad. But they are there. Not about that day, not really. I know we were doing nothing other than living out a normal day. That I believed she was safe and sound. That I tried my absolute very best, every single day of her life, to keep her safe. I didn't even let her go to the shopping center for fear that she'd get lost. So I don't really feel like I could have done that day differently.

What I do regret though is not just taking more time.

Just kneeling down and putting lippy on her, every single morning, regardless of what someone might think or whether she's too young or if she'd ruin her new Oilily top.

I wish I'd taken her shopping on so many more days. I was just waiting until she got "easier", when she might not pest or maybe get lost or throw a tantrum.

One of my first entries on this blog is about wanting a proper tea party with her. I never did it. I have no idea why but I never did. I guess I thought I had time.

I regret not letting her wear whatever she wanted every single day - why did I think it mattered?

She asked me to sleep in her bed one night. Why didn't I? I just regret these things for me. Not for her. She had everything she needed. She had love. SOOOOOOOO much love. Every single day, she was loved. She was happy. She was cherished and adored. But for me, I am sad.



The Gifts.

It's such early days but I can tell you already - along with the agonising pain that comes with losing her, there are Gifts.

I am more patient. I am more forgiving, of others and myself. I see beauty in so many things I took for granted. I am real and honest and open, more than ever before. I have made amazing, deep, unexpected friendships. I didn't think I could love my husband any more but I do. I am a deeper, better person.

There are so many other gifts I could talk about on a practical level - there are beautiful people doing amazing things behind the scenes to raise awareness of Ava's accident in the hope this never has to happen again. The amazingly talented, truly beautiful Tiffany Ard is writing a childrens book for Ava. We will, in time, work towards a foundation in Ava's name. We are so committed to wanting wonderful things to come out of Ava's tragedy...for our own family and for families the World over.

These things I call "Gifts From Ava'. She sends them every single day.


I like to imagine that one day my memories of the journey I shared with Ava and the gifts she continues to give me are enough. That the regrets fade and that great things have become, because of Ava. That's all I can hope for.