We were on our way home from a day's outing when we heard the news of the Malaysian Airline plane's disappearance. My first reaction was: no, over 200 new grieving mums, and 200 grieving parents. and Over 200 angels. We in the grieving world call our beloved departed loved one angels. I follow the news with extra fervour, because I have an angel.
Deborah was doing well in the crèche with Andrea. One day she came up to
the ward to give Andrew a picture she had made. She had drawn her
family photo. When I saw it, I cried. She drew Andrew as a baby floating
above us. She had glued onto him a blue Chinese conical hat. The rest
of us were standing firmly on the ground. She told me that she stuck the
hat on because Andrew was a Chinese boy and he was up in the skies
because he was an angel. To her, it was a good picture. She had in her
own way accepted that Andrew was going to die and he was going to be an
angel. We pinned the picture above Andrew’s cot, and she proudly told
everyone that her baby brother was going to be an angel.