Reluctant Artist

I shared before how Daniel had his own ideas around making pictures: either on the computer, else with a camera or you must get someone to do it for you, like this picture where Daniel was strictly directing exactly how and what Henry had to draw.

This next picture Daniel made when he was 2 and a half years old. I bought a book for someone as a gift and after writing our message inside the cover I gave the pen to Daniel so that he could also write something…and so it happened that my reluctant little artist finally decided to draw his first self portrait.

 (And it only took four months for this picture to also become the last and only Daniel self image ever.)

Awareness

A picture of my love, my life, my dreams, heart and soul.

I Am You And You Are Me

Dearest Daniel

My entire being still aches for you, all the same and my thoughts are constantly filled by you, sometimes with memories and sometimes with dreams.

Please stay close to me, my Darling. I feel so torn between my children on earth and my angel in heaven, without an answer and afraid of all my possible futures. Life and death have become strange concepts and to stop my mind from spiraling into darkness, I believe without seeing reason and without understanding.

I miss how beautiful you are, to hear you talking, to wake up with you, to see you discover the world. I miss YOU and the feeling I have for you is a deep, powerful emotion, something greater and better than love – it is a confirmation that our souls will forever be bound, as mammadaniel, in all the worlds to come and beyond the end of time.

I hold you and kiss you in my dreams tonight and always be well my precious Pikkewyntjie as I am you and you are me.

Mamma

Sunny Slice Of Magic

From the biography of the late actor Anthony Quinn, about his son Christopher who also died of drowning. This paragraph is a portrayal of my own feelings and gives a perfect description of Daniel too:

"He was like a fantastic fulcrum, around which our world could tilt and turn. It was incredible to me, and quite wonderful, the way our entire household pulsed to his doings, the way he could fill a room even in his sleep. He was everything – my flesh, my love, my hope for the future. He loved unconditionally. He was all we talked about, and all that mattered. He was, truly, a delightful child. Most proud fathers could toss off the same line without thinking about it, but I have thought about it. I think about it still, and I do not say it lightly. Christopher was a sunny slice of magic, gifted to us when we needed him the most and taken from us long before we were through."