Our beautiful baby daughter Anabelle was born sleeping June 2010.
Blessed with the screaming arrivals of our gorgeous rainbow sons,
Alexander October 2011, Zachary November 2013 and Lucas July 2016.

After Anabelle - Raising Rainbows
Heartbreak. Joy. Death. Life. But most of all Love.

Sunday, 19 December 2010

Snowbright Candlelight

Today has been quite monumental. I know how dramatic that sounds. But today, for the first time in 6 months, I actually felt carefree for half hour.  For half an hour I had fun – proper, not a care in the world, fun. You know what I had actually forgotten what that felt like.
This afternoon my nearly sister-in-law wanted to build a snowman. So off we went out into my parents garden; me, Jon, my brother and her and built ourselves a little snowman! (or woman actually as we’ve since named her Sally Snowman!) Four adults in their mid to late twenties behaving as little children! I can honestly say I think that’s the first time I’ve built a snowman as an adult, first time I’ve played in the snow as an adult. Of course the whole thing turned into a big snowball fight, and for that short time I lost myself. There was something liberating about being able to walk around my parent’s garden kicking and throwing snow, as if I was a little girl again.  I briefly re-experienced carefree.
It has been a good day and it is refreshing to be able to say that isn’t it. Today has been my shining light amongst the week that is to come.
Tonight I went to the “Carols by Candlelight” service at church. It looked so pretty with the hundreds of candles around flickering in the darkness. Each one representing that Jesus was born to be the light of the world; to shine in our darkness.  
We have lit more candles since Anabelle has died that at any other time in our lives. Two little candles sit under her photograph on our cabinet; one from Mummy and one from Daddy. Lighting the candles comforts me, I pretend that Anabelle can see the little light from heaven and knows that we’re thinking of her. 
But more than that those candles represent our hope; our hope in this darkness. Sometimes hope is thin on the ground, almost non-existent. But a flickering candle seems to be able to reignite it – the warm glow of the flame seems able to melt away the ever growing fears. That one day new happiness will outweigh the constant pain and sadness we feel now.  
In our school Christmas concert we sang about Christmas candles.  The second verse stuck out to me – so eloquently describing the importance of the candle in our grief.
Light a candle to shine in the window
To chase away fear and despair,
Light a candle to send out the message,
We have plenty of kindness to share.
Christmas candle shining light,
Christmas candle burning bright.

And so for Christmas we have bought Anabelle a special candle to go on our Christmas table. A whilte and glittery candle, shaped as a Christmas tree. We’ll light it and let it burn for her all day.
Chasing away our fear and despair and being our shining light.

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Caz
After Anabelle - Raising Rainbows. I'm Caz, Mummy to beautiful angel Belle and my wonderful rainbow boys, Xander, Zachy and Luc. Wife to Jon. Twitter @cazem Instagram @cazzyem
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