Remembering loved ones: My world ended that day
It was the coldest day of the year, the day you were born.
You were very much wanted, very much loved and cherished. My first child, my beautiful daughter.
You came in to the world on your grandmother's bed - the fourth generation from a long line of wonderful women. My grandmother, your great gran, was so proud to hold you.
Your grandmother, my mum, gave you your name. Ceridwen. Goddess of white words. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.
You were a bright star right from the beginning. You grew in to a gorgeous young mischievous toddler, with masses of ringlet curls bouncing out everywhere.
When your brother was born, and I was so happy to have such a treasured family.
Devastation hit me when you were just 3-years-old. My mum died very suddenly from a brain tumour aged 43. It hit me hard. She was my best friend. Just a few short months later, your great gran died too.
But there were two of us left from that mother and daughter line. You and me baby girl, and you would continue it.
Over the years, things weren't easy for us, I missed my mum terribly and suffered huge depression. I had you and your brother to keep me going, then later your next little brother.
We always had fun and cherished the simple things in life. Dancing together was my favourite thing.
You had such a wonderful sense of humour, like me, like your grandmother and your great gran. The silly, the absurd. We poked fun at everything.
I have on video the four of us lying down in the driveway being silly.
You grew, your brothers grew, and you started your intermediate life at a girls school in town. You were so bright and good at everything you did. You just didn't ever think you were good enough, no matter your marks or what everyone said about you.
Teenagehood hit. And it hit you hard. Horrible hormones. We all went through it baby. Mothers and daughters.
In the end it was just too hard. I loved you fiercely, but with that mother and daughter bond, came the mother and daughter stubbornness. We were just too alike.
In the end, we both made the decision that it was time for you and your brother to try living with your dad.
That was so hard. It snowed the day you were born and it snowed 15 years later the day you left my care.
You wouldn't know that I watched the car drive away with tears streaming down my face.
I had one holiday with you after that. I wanted you to come home - that's why I made your room different, more teenagery, more you. I had a feeling you wanted to come home too, so I asked, but you said that where you had more opportunities and you wanted your dad to know you more. Fair enough.
I missed you and your brother terribly, you even more. I knew your bro was ok with dad - the father and son bond established. The mother and daughter bond my girl, I missed it, even though you were only a phone call away.
On our last phone call my words to you were "you know I love you". I always have, I always will.
You committed suicide on 11/11/11. My world ended that day. My heart broke. Everything changed.
The mother and daughter bond - it's stopped. There will be no more mothers and daughters from that direct line. I'm the only one left. I am bereft without you, without my mum, without my gran, but mainly without you. You stopped the future by making that decision. I can no longer be a mother to my daughter.
My darling Ceri. It's been a hard year. But because of you I've made a decision. Your youngest brother and I are going to move to Kerikeri in honour of you.
The strength of mothers and daughters will never ever weaken.
For my mother, for her mother, and for you, my daughter.
I choose life, for a mother and her sons.
WHERE TO GET HELP IF YOU ARE DEPRESSED
Lifeline: 0800 543 354
Depression helpline: 0800 111 757
Suicide Prevention Helpline: 0508 828 865
Youthline: 0800 376 633
Samaritans: 0800 726 666
In an emergency, dial 111.
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