Yesterday the photos I took on the Journée Sans Voitures included a little girl in yellow wellies, earnestly studying the stone paving setts of the Champs Elysées. She looked to be about three years old, an age when curiosity extends to the texture and pattern of everyday objects as much as to passing creepy crawlies, leaves floating in puddles and interesting holes in the road. Today my mind has kept drifting back to another endlessly curious three year old, my son Matthew, caught forever at the age of innocent curiosity.
Matthew was fascinated by reflections and shadows, by dandelion seeds and squabbling starlings, by concrete mixers, trains and soaring seagulls. Like any three year old whose grownups can allow them the luxury of time to explore, Matthew would spend long minutes following a beetle through a grass blade jungle, stalking a butterfly round the garden or watching leaves floating down the gutter.
Matthew died in a road accident before he reached his fourth birthday. Today would have been his thirty first, an empty anniversary but one that’s hard to put aside. So to focus a wandering mind I’ve searched my photo archive for things that Matthew (and in turn his little sisters) helped me to look at more closely. A gift from times past.
Click on any photo to view the gallery.
October 2, 2017 at 5:58 pm
moving and meditative…i always try to rememer 6 degrees of separation between one self and everyone else, and so if one can send out positive ripples…
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October 2, 2017 at 6:45 pm
Thank you.
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October 2, 2017 at 7:03 pm
As I’m currently in London doing a spot of granny duty for an endlessly curious two year old, your post was shocking and moving in equal measure. I’ll be thinking of you and your son as I enjoy my hours with William.
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October 2, 2017 at 7:14 pm
Thank you. Enjoy your granny duties!
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October 2, 2017 at 8:53 pm
I remember Matthew being interested in some very small stones as we walked along a fence. I always think of him when I see a windmill too.
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October 2, 2017 at 9:33 pm
Yes, small stones were a regular fascination but you’ve got me searching my memory for windmills. I don’t remember ever visiting one with Matthew.
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October 2, 2017 at 10:16 pm
“anniversaries” are the worst.. Sending love. X
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October 3, 2017 at 6:55 am
Thank you.
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October 4, 2017 at 12:53 am
Such a beautiful tribute to your son. I am overwhelmed by your story, and tearful too. You honour him well. My thoughts. S.
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October 4, 2017 at 7:35 am
Thank you for your encouragement and kind thoughts.
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October 4, 2017 at 2:39 am
I am sorry that such a tragedy happened. Bless you. Sharing the things he loved is a special way to remember and honor Matthew.
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October 4, 2017 at 7:37 am
Thank you for your kind comment. This post was more personal than my usual but felt right for the day.
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October 4, 2017 at 7:07 am
Lovely post.
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October 4, 2017 at 7:38 am
Thank you.
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October 17, 2017 at 6:53 pm
Lovely gallery in his memory. it’s as if you are watching around, showing him things and he sees.
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October 17, 2017 at 7:59 pm
Thanks, it felt a bit like that.
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