caught in a landslide, pt. 2

Goodbye, Birdie.

It was a cool, dark morning on February 22nd. Harry was packing his journal into his backpack to head to the studio for practice with Niall, Liam and Louis. His phone chirped in the quiet living room.

"Morning, mum," Harry said wearily. "Everything ok?"

From the kitchen, I could hear his voice crack as he spoke and his nose sniffle. I placed the blue pen down on my calendar and closed it. When I stood, I waited a minute before walking toward Harry.

He sat hunched over on the couch - his left hand covered his forehead, while his right held the phone close to his ear. I tiptoed over and sat down next to him. As I gently pulled a tissue from the box to hand to him, I felt his left hand reach out to hold mine. I knew when I looked into his eyes what he was going to tell me.

"He's gone," Harry spoke quietly. "Robin passed away just an hour ago."

"Oh, god," I grasped his body with all my might. "I'm so sorry."

We held each other as he cried. Tears streamed down my face as I thought of how Anne was - she'd been by Robin's side for years and the diagnosis, followed by the prognosis had devastated her.

"Are you going home?" I asked when we'd both calmed down a bit. "Is there anything I can do for your mom or your family? Or you?"

"You're so wonderful," he smiled and sniffled. "But for now, we just need to grieve."

"Daddy, you're sad?" Evelyn had walked into the room as Harry blew his nose.

"Well, it's Grandpa Robin," Harry began. "He's been sick for a while..."

"Where's he?" Evelyn hopped up onto Harry's lap. "I want to see him."

I turned away to dab the tears from my eyes.

"Evelyn, we aren't going to see him again," Harry said gently. "He's in Heaven with the angels."

Our daughter looked out the window to the sky.

"I miss Birdie," she said. "I want him."

'Birdie' was her nickname for Robin. He bought her a book on robins for us to read to her when she was a year old. At only two years old, she realized her grandpa had the same name as the birds in her favorite book.

"I know, sweetie," I stepped in. "He's happy and okay."

Tears rolled down her cheeks. I hated that she'd have to deal with death at such a young age. Harry and I held her close as she cried. Eventually, she fell asleep, so Harry put her in our bed.

"She won't remember him," he sighed. "She won't remember Robin."

"Yes, she will," I replied. "We will keep the memories alive."

____

Harry flew to London two days later. My sister arrived the next day to help with the kids and keep an eye on me. Before he'd left, Harry had also hired a postpartum doula to come in and feed me, while also helping with Madeline.

My midwives were also given the details of Harry's departure in order to add in a few extra postpartum checks. All of our minds were worry free knowing that Madeline and I would be taken care of.

___

When he called on Saturday, I braced myself for tears and emotions. However, I was greeted with a smile through the phone. His description of the service was raw, but so beautiful. I loved hearing every bit of it. He told me of the eulogy that Gemma had written. He snapped a photo of the service brochure - everything was perfect. Robin was wonderful man with a huge heart and his funeral displayed his amazing qualities.

After we'd hung up, I showed Evelyn photos from the brochure and the slideshow. She was confused, but asked very mature questions. I kept my composure until she left my room and I cried. The whole situation was bittersweet - my precious Madeline would never know her Birdie.