There are things that I notice now that would have been completely ordinary before Day 0.
“I can’t believe this. It is so unreal”, says a mum with tears rolling down her cheeks as she holds her newborn baby for the first time. My words when he was born and when he died.
A father sitting next to his 4 years old daughter in the bus, holding her hand but fully engrossed in a phone conversation and completely unavailable to her. What I would give for a bus ride with my boy.
Tourists around London making funny faces and hand gestures while taking pictures. Just like he used to when we were tourists.
A baby in a pram, crying for attention while the mother reads a magazine, mindlessly moving the pram to and fro without looking up. What a lost opportunity for her.
A family of four sharing a meal and a laugh at a roadside café. Something I will not have any more.
A bunch of teenagers making funny and boisterous conversation on the train. So like him and his friends.
A young man listening to music on his ear-phones, walking down the street with his head imperceptibly bobbing, totally deaf to any other sounds. Just like him.
A delayed or cancelled train causing disruption for commuters. May be another life lost on the tracks.
A short burst of drumming in the middle of a piece of music. My star percussionist.
My colleagues discussing their plans for the kid’s summer holidays. Not something I have to think about now.
The sun shining through a chink in the clouds while the wind blows gently. Nature telling me he is around but, oh, how I miss him.