White Cliffs of Dover

About tragically losing a child. "I looked left and bathed in the wonderful smile of my wife. I turned my head right whilst a gentle stroke touched my hand and our gorgeous daughter was gone..."

I looked left and bathed in the wonderful smile of my wife. I turned my head right whilst a gentle stroke touched my hand and our gorgeous daughter was gone.

 

Grief is observing yourself losing your mind. Falling into the abyss, tumbling wondering all the way down how you slipped and never hitting bottom. I heard my wife screaming. Falling into her own abyss. It was pitch dark. I couldn’t see her. Macy was gone.

 

I fell for ten thousand years before I heard her scream.

 

Daddy!!! Daaa-deee!!!

 

The darkness disappeared into a blinding bokeh. Sunrays bouncing of the white chalk, blurring my sight into a macro photo of my disappearing daughter.

 

Her arms stretched out the way she does when she wants me to pick her up. Her wrists awkwardly twisted outwards the way only a toddler can, her palms facing me and her little chubby fingers waiting for my touch.

 

I used to cherish this moment. Feeling needed by this little person who’s love I craved so badly. The embrace she sought, rinsing my sorrows away. A moment of utter peace. Warmth of the kindness from an innocent smile, uncorrupted by the stinging lashes of life.

 

Today her face shows no smile. Instead her face is painted by the lashes of life all hitting her at once. My daughter is experiencing every fear that she would ever have in one singular moment. Her blue eyes no longer the sea of calm but instead a pool of despair staring at me, haunting me.

 

Daaaa-deeee!

 

The sound is coming from further away this time and it’s deafening.

 

Daaaddyyy!

 

I barely recognise the sound. Every noise my baby has made since coming into our life carefully composed and now thrown wildly out of key.

 

Macy! Macciieee!

 

I can’t hear her screams anymore, the air pounding into my ears. Tears are carving their way through my skin. Blood is rushing through my body. My limbs are shaking, tingling. Macy is disappearing and I reach for her. My arms stretched towards her, the wind gusting through my fingers.

 

Maaaaacyyy!

 

 Macciee!

John!!!!!!

 

 

 

Author's Note

Listening to Max Richter and this story came to me. Thought I'd share one of my mind fucks for a change, instead of letting it ramble on in my head. Comment if you like, thanks for caring. Love, Mike

Reviews

[Stan Lee]

This one is a bit scary. Your intriguing style left a lot to the imagination in a almost indy type way. I loved the descriptions. Thanks for sharing. Please give us more? I'm enjoying what I'm reading so far! :)