Bryer’s birthday…

Remember remember the sixth of November.


You should have been turning fifteen this week.

But you died two and a half years ago.

Where has the time gone?

I’m able to talk about you without crying sometimes now.

Sometimes I can even have a laugh over something you said or did.

The tears still come daily though.

Usually at night.


I’ve nearly completed the sentence I received for your death.

My ‘official’ sentence, that is.

You and I both know that my real sentence is living through every day that you lost.


You should have been turning fifteen this week.

I’m so sorry Bryer.

I’m so so sorry, my baby.

4 thoughts on “Bryer’s birthday…

  1. gatito2 says:

    This is so incredibly sad, but beautiful. I am so sorry for however it happened, who it was, or how you were involved, I’m just so sorry because you must be going through hell whatever the circumstances. For the life of me I can’t find on your blog the source of your intense sadness, but I know you lost someone.


    • Thank you for your thoughts and compassion. Yes, my eldest daughter passed away after a car accident on the 9th of July 2011. She was 12 years old, and such a precious and wise soul. I know you understand how unbearable the pain of losing a child is, I cry for you, and me, and Kaitlyn and Bryer every time I read your heartbroken words.
      I can tell you that after two and a half years, I have grown to accept that Bryer is gone, and I’ve learnt to live with the knowledge of that, but the hurting is still the same. Maybe even worse on some days.
      The only things that I am able to do for my daughter now, is to find something (anything) beautiful about every day, in her honour, and it’s important to me for people to remember that Bryer didn’t just die, she lived as well.
      Love and regards to you,


      • gatito2 says:

        Thank you Toni. I am so sorry about your daughter’s death. You have progressed in the fact that you try to find something beautiful every day. I don’t see anything beautiful anymore other than the signs I take are from her, dragonflies, morning glories, an African coin showing up in the middle of change from the country she visited. Everything else is ugly to me. Maybe I’ll get there some day. But I am also like you in the way that I want to make sure everyone knows Kaitlyn lived.

        This is a horrible road we travel.

        I wish you love and regards as well. Your writing is beautiful.



  2. Clearing

    Steadily stealthily the rising hurricane harmonies
    These litanies streaming screaming the blue earth
    These unrepentant clouds locusts a locus arising
    Endless blue star desires not aureoles but dark auras so sure
    I am says the curling black haze thinking to be
    A grave gray mountain ranging into future’s slate stone
    It’s green creation I make
    at the vanishing point where meet the lines of light.

    Her eyes burned a shadow where she sought herself
    Living cratered by the love of silhouettes
    Formed of the gossamer of dreams
    Showering her into unseen shapes
    These meteors no more than meteors’ trace
    Crushed upon the unknown earth of her
    An empty embrace.

    In a mirror the death of her beloved
    She first saw savage vibrations succor her
    The steady rhythms soothing loss into manageable beats
    Until it went away timed
    To the empty beating seizing the heart pounding false gods
    Gods of the hidden gods of delusion small shadow gods
    Asking everything loud their static louder louder
    SssssshhhSSSSS static kk static kkkk a shallow
    Screaming no death no life no death no life no death no life
    This beat ssstilling its beat she hsss sees break kk kk kk
    Stilled this moment now her love’s died
    she cries pained clear . . . “my love’s died.”


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