I’ve just organised the funeral for my daughters. No parent should ever have to do this. It’s not something I’d recommend anyone ever do. There’s something cosmically wrong in this reversal of the natural order of things. However, it is one of the few things left to me that I can do to be a father to my girls.
The funeral will be next week and we’ve started contacting people to invite them to attend. It will be a simple ceremony; nothing elaborate at all. The purposes of the event is to introduce them, rather belatedly, to our family and friends and for Kathi and I to say a final goodbye to our girls. We don’t want to come out of the other side of this tragedy and have no one understand beyond the obvious why we mourn our daughters’ passing.
In the eleven days of Charlotte’s life and twelve days of Marianne’s life, we have seen (or thought we’d seen or imagined or whatever) that our girls each had the start and the makings of very definite personalities. Each would have been a handful in her own particular way and we find that we also mourn the loss of the ups and downs of parenting headstrong children.
We’re slowly coming to terms with the loss of our beautiful little girls and find ourselves missing the phone calls from friends and family that we know have been circulating around us. Feel free to contact us but don’t be surprised if we’re not up to talking much and we ask you to call back later.