Little Boy Lost
Posted on June 26, 2015
We had one of our worst nights sleep ever here last night. Luckily for all of us, we are blessed to have had my mum here all of this week helping out, and I was able to go to bed at 5am with an exhausted Boodi, and get some sleep, then come and fetch an exhausted Lady after an hour to fall into another bed with her.
Yes, that is how we do sleep here. Kids begin in their own beds but invariably end up preferring to sleep with Al or I. Last night was bad because Al wasn’t here.
When I got up, William Tyrell’s sweet little face was all over my social media. It brought tears to my eyes.
No “Happy Birthday” there.
The manuscript/book/thing that I am trying to write is based on the long ago disappearance of a little girl, William’s age, and how his mother survived never knowing what happened. I think that it’s pretty safe to say that I am not giving away the plot by saying that. I had this idea before William Tyrell was snatched. It came from the unimaginable grief caused by the case of the missing Beaumont children, before I was born, but little William’s suspected abduction certainly brought the idea into illumination. How do you survive not knowing? How do you face imagining the worst?
I think that mothers all over Australia cry tears for that little boy today, though all of the #s in the world won’t bring him back. I think we all try to imagine the best, because the worst is too terrible to countenance. I can only wish William a happy birthday in an imagined best world, where happiness is possible, but that best is so precariously situated in reality that I simply picture his face and wish him peace, and a comfort that I wish I could magically transfer through the grateful cuddles that I share with my own tired children today.
Linking up with Grace for #FYBF