False A Grandmothers Story My name is Kathleen, This are my feelings as a grandmother, at the loss of my grandchild, Jasmine. May 15th 1994, The day our beautiful little grandchild arrived so unexpected, she wasn’t due until September. I arrived at the hospital. The midwife took me aside and told me my daughter was about to give birth but the baby would not survive. I was stunned. I couldn’t believe God would let this happen to my daughter so I went into the little church in the hospital and I prayed and waited. I promised God everything , even my life. An hour passed or maybe two, I just seemed to be in a daze. Then someone came and told me a little girl was born. I thanked God and went up to see her. After a while, the nurse brought this beautiful little baby in, my daughter handed her to me and told me the sad news. That she won’t survive, her little lungs had not developed, my daughter was only 23 weeks pregnant. I held her and my heart burst with love. The Priest came in and she was Christened and given her name.. I handed her back to her Man and Dad and they held her until she died. They held her, for her whole lifetime. Not many parents get this chance. Looking at her, it brought back to me, my loss, over 20 years ago. But mine was a miscarriage at 12 weeks. Over the years, I had put it at the back of my mind, not forgotten. But it brought it back with such force. I could not help my daughter with her loss, but time is a great healer, and now we have another little granddaughter, Kerrie and we love her so much. We have a photograph of our beautiful, Jasmine being held by her Mam and Dad. We have it up on the wall. She won’t be forgotten and we tell Kerrie that is her sister. When I look at the photograph, I don’t get sad anymore, I think how lucky we were to have her and her parents got to hold her and love her. She lived for a short while but “ she did live”. Kathleen Martin Grandmother to Jasmine Farrell Real To Me Some think you were not real You were not here long enough, You never took a breath to be real, But my darling child you were real to me. Your movements in my womb, were real to me Your short but meaningful life, was real to me, Your birth, silent but beautiful, was real to me, Your little baby fi ngers and toes, were real to me, Your, smell, you hair, were real to me, Your death, whatever pain you might have had, was real to me, Your birthdays are real to me, Your name, Paul David, is real to me, Loving and missing you, is real to me. What I have learnt from having you, is real to me Knowing you are with my brothers, is real to me, Knowing we will meet again, my beautiful son, is real to me. For our son, Paul June Curran To Brian At times I feel you close to me, I sense your presence. I know you as an older and wiser spirit that I. I don’t really know where you are or if I’ll ever see you again. I miss not seeing you now as a twelve year old boy. You have a strong infl uence on my life in how I have changed and what I have become. For all that I thank you Brian Lovingly, Mary Lillis isands newsletter 81

False 1997 isands newsletter 82