Bereaved siblings…but really just siblings

I hear November is bereaved siblings month .

I am happy with almost all the things my children want to be.

A policeman or a bin man, I’d be proud either way.
Star of the show or smiling while hiding at the back, I’ll be clapping the loudest.
Chatter boxes or a few wise words, both ways are still my favorite chats.
Early risers or having to be tempted out of bed at 11am, aways happy to see them, I’ll pop some toast on.

When they became bereaved siblings it was of course not a choice of theirs, or any of ours.
And whilst I’m happy with anything they want to be, I’m not happy they have to be this.

I wish they didn’t have so many questions that can be hard to say. Hard to answer.
I wish they’d never heard CPR happening as they woke that Friday.
I wish they didn’t have so many emotions that are hard to feel. Hard to show.
I wish they didn’t know what it looked like inside a funeral home.

I wish they’d never seen me crumble.

But mainly I really wish that each morning they’d come down stairs and Albie would be there.
The fourth boy of the pack.
Caden and Jacob might chase him and push him on his scuttle bug so fast I’d get a bit nervous.
Milo would be the most special friend to him, I think they’d have liked building forts together and eating biscuits in their little den.
And Bhodi would look to his big brother to learn all that important stuff like how to walk, talk and get in that cereal cupboard once and for all.

God it would it would have all been so fun.

I know, because I was there when it was reality. Watching the best show in the world.

Loving him, Laughing with him, doing life with him.

I don’t want them to be bereaved siblings, they don’t want to either. But even knowing how it ended…we’d always choose to have had known Albie.

These kids are not just bereaved siblings.

They’re big brothers. And a little brother.

They’re messy, noisy, funny, annoying, kind, tiring, and awesome human beings.

They’re the toughest people I know.

They’re super hero’s.