“I didn’t realise she was going to tell me something so personal!” I shifted awkwardly towards my mother, I wanted to hug it, but her gravestone stood behind her casting a looming shadow.

“You did so well, talking about loss…” her voice distance , echoed, skin transparent and blurred.

I sighed, for a moment the thoughts ran like a whirlwind in my head, she had told me the loss of a child.

A child . A sweet baby who will never grow up and run and climb and create and breath and - I felt tears stream my eyes, my womb ached.

I loss one once, it was girl, it was a bouncing jelly bean, the heart of a hope. It was a little bit of selfishness and I loved it with all my soul. I called her Emilia and I felt my heart lurch, Emilia. I hadn’t thought about you in years. I missed you, I missed the life you could’ve had. I missed making you breakfast and getting you ready for school and -

I can’t think like this… what I regret most is when Clara shared something so personal, all I could utter was “I’m sorry for your lost” I breathed the words, they seemed as far as mother, they seemed lost on the wind and they did not reflect the deep pain I too had felt. I am sick, I feel sick. Sick with regret for not sharing that pain.