The Laura McPhee Memorial Fund (Asthma) UK CHARITY

A beautiful princess will never be forgotten

Waiting... To be called back

Waiting….. to be called back

My heart is broken. My soul is shattered. I ache, hurt, keel over with pain. I am lost I am no longer myself. I am empty, closed down. I am scared and angry I feel out of control. I weep, sob, shout and rage, rage at the unkind world. Angry of happy people, WHY ME or US. There are so many words to describe the emotions imposed on us when a child dies: fury, terror, agony, shock, misery, loneliness, disbelief. We feel crushed, obliterated, overwhelmed; we are tossed into the chaos of hell, tortured, afraid and furious. I could go on and on… trapped and suicidal…

Put together these feelings might sound overdramatic, but those of us who have lost a child sadly know, not one of these words, separately  or together, comes anywhere close to describing the deep-rooted, agonising and searing pain we are experiencing and continue to experience.

I cannot make those of you, who do not know that pain understand, nor would I want to undermine other people’s loss of any kind, but since death and loss are something we all have to deal with in life, there will come a time when many of us will empathise with it.

How many times you hear ‘ Time Heals’ ‘ You’ll get over it’  Trust me when I say this – I will never get over my child’s death, and I wouldn’t want to.  Laura’s passing is as much a part of my future too as of her passing so when you ask a grieving parent to get over it or time heals, you may as well be asking them to forget their child.

GO and stand over your own sleeping child or loved one and ask yourself whether you could simply get over it. Could you go on without them! Could u!

So here we are the nameless parents who have buried a child, or children. There is no word to describe us – we are not a widow, widower or an orphan, but somewhere in between, lost in no-mans-land, condemned to live the rest of our days existing in horrendous non describable pain. In the beginning we are comforted and cared for to the best of anyone’s limited abilities, but then we discover that long after the support has waned, we are still gravely injured. The wound is invisible to the naked eye but it never, ever goes away. The plaster we place upon it to survive each day to conceal it and the fake smile but the wound never heals. It is always there, always with us- dull ache, a throb beneath the surface, a sudden twinge, a hollow wish and then ripped raw with excruciating UN imaginable pain which can be ripped open any second of every day. Suddenly we are back straight to the second of the initial loss once again bereft, cut, lost, angry , alone, SUICIDAL!!

The pain is also people walking straight past like they don’t see you, they don’t ring anymore, write a letter or no communication, like you don’t exist anymore either. You feel like an alien soooo alone when you have done no wrong. Only the most UN imaginable pain and your most precious child has been taken away from you and you are trying to survive your day. They don’t want to see you…. They look at you maybe… don’t know what to say, or don’t go see them as they might make you feel sad… When they have their happy lives to get on with without pain, without the suicidal thoughts, without the daily existing or waiting patiently for god to call us back to heaven too……

 At the end of the day when god took my precious daughter back to heaven and she passed away I passed away inside too………………………….

All that’s left is WAITING…… to be called back

Love u miss you Laura Angel love broken hearted tortured Mummy :’( xx blowing kisses to heaven x

Trace Mcphee

Mummy 

My mum, she tells a lot of lies

She never did before.

From now on ’til the day she dies

She’ll tell a whole lot more.

 

She used to tell the truth a lot

But now it doesn’t matter.

I died and went to Heaven

Her life is all a shatter.

 

Ask my mum how she is

She’ll say, “Yes I’m fine!”

It that’s the truth then tell me

Why does she cry each night?

 

Ask my mum how she is

She seems to cope so well

She didn’t have a choice you see

Nor the strength to yell.

 

You think you know the feeling

But this cannot be

For even though you love me

You don’t as much as she.

 

She will smile and say,

“It’s okay, God has a plan”

But she will turn away and cry

‘Cause she just can’t understand.

 

Tell a joke and she will laugh

But she is not okay

She wants to share a joke with me

But it will not be today.

 

I watch from here in Heaven

Her distress disturbs my peace

Will someone take care of her

Thus take care of me.

 

Someday she will feel better

“Yes I will” she lies

She knows this will not happen

Until the day she dies.

 

Ask my mum how she is

She’ll say “Thank you, good”,

She cannot tell how she is

Oh, how I wish she could.

 

Ask my mum how she is

“I’m well, I’m good and you?”

I’ll shake my head in heaven

It simply isn’t true.

 

She’ll love me all her life

I loved her all of mine

But if you ask how she is

She’ll lie and say just fine.

 

Her carnival is over

She’s stepped off the carousel

But to save you feeling badly

She’ll say thanks all is well.

 

My mum, she’s not gone mad yet

But oh, so very nearly

Don’t ask my mum how she is

Ask how she is really

 

I am here in Heaven

I cannot hug her from here

If she lies don’t listen

Hug her, hold her near.

 

On the day we meet again

We’ll smile and I’ll be bold.

I’ll say, “You’re lucky to get in here mum,

with all the lies you told