67 sentiments shared

Knowing.

Initially, in those early months of 2007, Ava’s Daddy & I talked about the mixed feelings that went with Ivy not knowing Ava.    She was just twelve months old when Ava left.   They had not gotten the chance to learn about one another, to play dolls, to fight, to share secrets.  It broke our heart to know those things could never be but at the same time,  we were relieved that she could grow up without the missing that we, and her brothers, would have to endure.

At that time, I held some vague notion that one day, when Ivy was possibly nine, or twelve, she would come to me and say “So, Mum.  This Ava person?  Tell me about her.”  And I would sit down and tell her about a sister she had..for a short while.  Ava.   I’d  show her the special things.   Perhaps open those creaky  armoire doors and pull out some faded dresses.   And how, against all I believed possible, we survived losing her.  Maybe she’d sit quietly and absorb and feel a pang of missing she may not have had before.   I don’t really know but the hazy reel played something like that.

And then, a few short months after Ava left,  I began finding out that Ivy had an awareness of her sister well beyond what I realized.  At just 15 months of age, sitting quietly on my lap in the lounge one night, she suddenly sat straight up and looked over my shoulder.  She started to point and asked me to get up, in toddler babble.  I was not very keen and she was not giving up.  So, we went, her pointing the whole way until we reached the cup cupboard.  From it swung a Xmas ornament with Ava’s photo attached and she demanded that I remove it and give it to her.  I was baffled, so I did.  She promptly kissed it and handed it back.  That was it.  A brief moment in time but for me it shifted how I perceived their relationship.  The reel rewound,  just a little.  And it scared me.

Since that night, there have been so many moments in time.. Together they’ve created a picture of a little girl who very much knows, and misses,  her big sister.   Who pleads to wear her dresses, who asks to visit her in Heaven, who tucks treasures away so that she can “give them to Ava when she comes home”.   I was not ready for this awareness.   It’s not that we constantly mention Ava, we don’t.  We’ve had to find a balance for our children where we include their sister but we allow them to live a life that does not include grief every day.  We would never want that for them.

It still scares me.  I don’t want Ivy to miss Ava.  I don’t want a day where she cries, I mean really cries, for the yearning of her sister.  I don’t want to have to explain where she went, and why.   I don’t even know why.   I feel so guilty that she will grow up with even a little bit of the wishing and wondering that we carry.  I see her playing alone and it makes my heart hurt.    To look at her, to see how very, very much she resembles Ava, to imagine two of them – so similar – side by side.  My heart hurts all over again.  To think of my own life, growing up with a constant playmate, a confidant, almost a part of my self, called sister..

There is a place in my grief that belongs to Ivy alone, and some days it’s just so much bigger than the rest.

1. Sam Pearce says:

   Such a beautiful post, as always. You have such a gift with words and putting your heart on ‘paper’. That top photo is so moving. Ava is gorgeous. I lost my first daughter, but at birth. We never got to know her really. I then had another daughter, another son, and then another daughter. The eldest daughter is very close to the memory of her lost sister. All my children speak of her often. But my daughter will ask for her sister’s little photo book and read through it, having a cry for her lost baby. My daughter has such a big heart and joy for life, I often feel that she is living two lives, her’s and the sister who went before her. I can kind of see that in Ivy too, even though I don’t know her. Much love to you.

   
2. spoiledonlychild says:

   Every time I read one of your posts about Ava I am blown away and moved to tears by your lovely writing and your incredible grace. I think Ivy will, like all of us, live with questions and regrets about what might have been. But that is just part of being human. You couldn’t have spared her that, even if Ava had stayed.

   
3. Nic says:

   Sheye, you have beautifully recorded many, many moments since Ava left you. There are so many hard moments, but you all have each other, and that is the true blessing. The photo’s you have of Ava will forever remind Ivy of the special sister she still has , in her heart.

   
4. Rebecca says:

   I believe in angels.

   
5. Sheye says:

   I really am very grateful for the words of advice and comfort.
   Thankyou, so much.
   Sheye x

   
6. Sherri P eh says:

   Sheye, I don’t know what to say. The images of your girls are breathtaking and now, also heartbreaking. I can so understand your worries and your fears. We mothers want all good for our children, and the absence of Ava makes that impossible. You are doing an extraordinary job of creating a blissful life for your children here on earth, and I can’t imagine how difficult that must be at times. All mothers should have your heart. Sherri XO

   
7. Alissa says:

   Love to you and yours, and little Miss Ivy. Her precious big sis will never be far away. {{Hugs}}

   
8. Molly says:

   Sheye,
   I catch my breath seeing pictures of your precious Ava and Ivy together. The reality of Ivy missing Ava is so hauntingly, *achingly* sad and familiar to me. My older sister, Aimee, was tragically killed in an accident when I was a month old ~ we were 15 months apart. And I remember where I was when I was older … when the loss was articulated verbally… I remember sobbing for her. I will always profoundly miss Aimee. At each milestone… on regular days… and perfect days… missing Aimee ebbs and flows through the fabric of me. I’m 32 now and have four daughters –2 sets of girls 15 to 18 months apart. Thank you, Sheye, for sharing your daughters and your heart. You will all remain close to mine.

   
9. lauri says:

   thank you for sharing.
   May your family be blessed.

   
10. Anonymous says:

    I have been reading your beautiful words for quite some time now but have struggled to find my own words to leave. Tonight I simply must for just a few hours ago, just before reading your heartwrenching words here, my 2 year old daughter bounced over to me while I was feeding her 10 month old baby sister some yoghurt and insisted on helping. There she stood with spoon in hand and mouth wide open to encourage her sister to open her mouth just like Ava stood next to Ivy. My breath caught as I opened your post and as I read the tears started flowing. I see my two girls playing together already and love that they already have a special bond. My heart aches for you that Ivy does not have her sister with her but it is wonderful to hear that from knowing her at 12 months old Ivy remembers her and she will surely cherish this and these beautiful photos for her whole life. Sheye, you are such an inspiration and I thank you so much for sharing your life. Wishing you and your beautiful family the very best.

    
11. Natasha says:

    Sorry, forgot to enter my name for the post I just left above! x Natasha

    
12. C@thleen says:

    I’ve read so much about Ava and Ivy and your beautiful family. I have laughed and I’ve cried. When you say you can’t breathe- I feel that deep in my heart… I love these pictures Sheye. Your Ava and your Ivy-well they are just so beautiful! The tenderness in these pics! You saw that. You photographed that! I am just amazed…
    Te mando un gran abrazo y espero que Dios te cuide siempre.

    
13. Polly R says:

    Those are such beautiful pictures.
    This post made me cry and I don’t even know you!
    Polly x

    
14. Becca says:

    My eyes are definitely tearing up right now. This post embodies so much that is beautiful. Your photography is beautiful for so many reason, not the least of which is for what it captures. the moments between sisters. And your beautiful words and heart just amplify that so wonderfully. thank you for sharing, even when it hurts.

    
15. Louisiana Belle says:

    Easter Sunday of 1967, my family was involved in a car crash that killed my 2-1/2 year old sister. Because my parents were so grieved and so despondent over her death, I grew up feeling as though they wished I had died instead of her. It made my childhood a very painful experience and I’ve never truly gotten past it.

    It is so brave of you to write about this. I love your beautiful photography, and admire this blog. I hope you continue to heal and grow and teach those around you.

    
16. Johanna from Finland says:

    You made me cry and it’s all because of these lovely photos and the way you are writing, they are pure love. It’s wonderful how you share your feelings and love for all of us. This blog got me thinking things and i can’t be more happier right now. You are a great mom! Thank you!

    
17. Bob Davis says:

    I don’t know you personally and acciddently stumbled upon your website. As a grandfather, it really hurt to read your words. My heart is with you. I know I am a stranger but I can tell you that I love all children. I have 3 healthy children with my baby being 29. I also have 3 grandchildren with my baby being 6. If you ever need a grandfather type person to talk to my web address is y12@tds.net. Keep your children close and love them all you can. Count this as one BIG smile for that young lady.

    X