If you read my previous post you’ll know that I managed to overcome my fear of driving in time to make it down to Kent for a very special event, the Mile in Memory of Matilda Mae walk. What a beautiful, beautiful day lay before us, in memory of the best of little girls, Matilda Mae who was found in her cot, lost to SIDS on her nine-month birthday, 2nd February this year. We were there to walk for Matilda Mae, for her amazing blogger mummy Jennie (Edspire – read her heartbreaking but beautiful and inspirational blog here), for her twin big-siblings Esther and William, for her Daddy David, and all of this organised in perfect detail by Jennie, to raise money for the fantastic Lullaby Trust (formerly FSID) to help continue their vital work.
(Thank you to Helen from Schryver Photography for letting me download her fantastic photos of the day to use here and on facebook. They do so much better justice to the day than mine, although I’ll post a few of mine at the end just for posterity!)
Of all the things I might have been nervous about that day (driving, playing, controlling two tear-away boys with a violin on my back!) the one thing I wasn’t nervous about was meeting Jennie. I was going to meet a woman I tweeted for the very first time the night she lost her baby, after three months of tweets, emails and blog posts… face to face. I suppose I should have been nervous. But I wasn’t. I was excited. Emotional, but excited. And I worried that that was inappropriate, to be so excited to meet someone I know for such a sad reason…
But then I saw her. In bright purple with a floating silver star balloon above her head, a smile on her face and deep brown, deeply sad eyes. Shockingly brown! So that’s where Tilda got them from, I thought as I gave her a squeezy hug, and I knew I was right to be excited, because the longer I know her the more convinced I am we were meant to meet somehow. Anyway, my detours and extra goes around the roundabouts meant I missed the breakfast where I had been meant to first meet Jennie, so a quick hug was all we had time for but I grabbed a quick bacon buttie and the much appreciated free coffee and headed off to the big marquee. I marvelled at the beautiful set up, with hay-bales, balloons, flowers and starting ribbon. Nothing seemed to have been forgotten and the whole thing was perfectly organised from start to finish, with Jennie’s trademark stamp on it. I was disappointed that Gabs flatly refused to enter into the tent as I’d hoped Lucian could join in with the Funtrain class that was going on inside, with puppets, singing and bubbles. But Gabs, despite being a full-on active, slightly bolshy character can be surprisingly wary of new places and groups of large people so instead we ran around outside and went to see the pigs. (23 mth old Lucian mastered a very convincing new snorting noise.)
Bang on 11am we all gathered at the starting post and Jennie cut the ribbon, with David and the twins looking on and we were off, walking for Matilda Mae and The Lullaby Trust.
It seemed to me that the mood was lighthearted but poignant. People were having fun and enjoying the beautiful route but there was a quiet air, so I knew we were all thinking of Tilda and wondering if she was around us, in the air, in the bluebells, in the sunlight streaking through the gaps in the trees. Her presence was palpable and at times I felt out of place having to yell at Gabs to stop escaping and ploughing ahead through the crowd. (He’s a fully-fledged Houdini and I really struggle to control him at times. Strong-willed doesn’t cover it!) But the walk was really a happy one. Gabs, a really advanced reader for his age (3 and 3/4) loved reading out the questions stuck to the trees and answering them before I could. I felt a bit sorry for Luci stuck in the buggy but he seemed happy enough gazing at all the nature around him. We don’t have too many bluebells or trees for that matter on the Finchley Road. Every twig, every leaf, every breath of fresh air is a novelty for my kids! I resolved to get out into the country with them more often and hope a few more trips down to Jennie are on the cards. In any case, I was really impressed with all the details of how both the Rarebreeds Centre and the Walk were laid out. I will definitely be back with my boys, despite the long drive. The sweetest surprises of the day were the little packets of ‘forget-me-not’ seeds to plant for Matilda Mae, hidden in the trees and sticking out the tree-stumps and Gabs loved to grab them as we passed. I’ve bought little pots to plant them in.
I thought one mile would seem like a long way but before I was ready for it to be over we were arriving back at the marquee and were greeted with smiles and bubbles to blow for Matilda Mae. Next year I would like to walk 10 miles for Matilda! It was too short and over too soon, but short little legs probably couldn’t have made it any further. 😉
The marquee was filled with soft play when we arrived back and my boys were only too delighted, especially Lucian who leapt out of the buggy. It was my turn to contribute to the day with a bit of violin playing and I was a bit nervous about taking my eyes off the boys as they’re both prone to making a run for it. But the play area was so absorbing and the lady from Jumping Beans was absolutely fantastic at keeping tabs on the boys while I played and encouraging them on the equipment. And she hadn’t even known they were mine and that I couldn’t watch them while I was playing, she just did it! I was really impressed, and sorry to hear they don’t have classes in London. Lucian was particularly obsessed with the slide.
I was meant to be performing there representing my Classical Babies concerts (I know Jennie through my @classicalbabyco twitter account, not my personal one, which I hardly use, and I follow lots of mum bloggers on it). But standing next to Jennie with her twins staring up at me, alone with no pianist to accompany me, felt intensely personal and and so, so private. Not a business thing. Not even really a professional music thing. Me, a mum and a friend, whose heart is broken by her heartbreak, needing to do something helpful, anything: the only thing I know how to do, really which is play the violin. It’s quite hard to find pieces that work with just violin alone with no other instruments so I felt a little silly at the beginning but was so proud to be able to do something even if it was small. I wasn’t sure how it would go down though and I was so chuffed to see William hovering nearby gawping at me with a look of fascination on his face! Jennie was worried her voice wouldn’t hold out from the emotion so she made me announce the bubbles to ‘Twinkle Twinkle’ and ‘In the Night Garden’. I took this so seriously it makes me smile in hindsight to see the serious look on my face while I was playing one of the simplest tunes you can play, but it meant so much to me to make it beautiful and I knew from the look on Jennie’s face it was an emotional moment. So happy everyone sang!
Afterwards, I got my little 1/16th and 1/10th size violins out and let any takers have a go. A gorgeous down’s syndrome girl amazed me by being pretty darn keen and coordinated, having watched me quietly and closely for ages. I wish I could have had longer with her. William had a quick go before several older children dove in, some of them more adept than others. Then teeny, quiet Esther popped up for a go and while I was trying to put her hand in the “baby” easy-hold on the shoulders of the violin, she pulled away from me and quite instinctively, naturally put herself in a perfect left-hand hold on the neck! I was taken by surprise because 2 is really a bit young to play properly. I teach 3 year olds and up and that is younger than most teachers will take on but I’d love to see what I could do with her! I think her grandmother was pretty horrified (“Of all the instruments!” 😉 ) but I’m afraid she might have violinist written all over her… Sorreeeeee!
I had to make a run for it out of the tent a couple of times when I lost the boys, and at one point Gabs got miles away from me down the mile-track and fell and cut his lip quite badly. He had a big cry and I caved in and said, “I told you so!” but it didn’t dent his enthusiasm for long. They ran around the field while people picnicked and David and some of the children blew the biggest bubble-kisses I have ever seen to Tilda in the sky. There is no way she could have missed them! The sky was blue in between the clouds and the light hit the bubbles amazingly as they floated up to their recipient, absent guest-of-honour, the one we were all thinking of all day, little miss Matilda Mae. xx
I have to admit, we didn’t stay to see all the animals after, as I was just absolutely shattered and keen to get back through London before rush-hour hit, but we grabbed the ice-creams Gabs had been begging for since breakfast! I felt a pang of guilt as we climbed into the car when Gabs said, “You forgot to take me to the playground!” We had to walk past the most fun looking climbing/swinging/abseiling equipment on the mile and I’d promised to take him back. But really, I think we were all a bit pooped and sure enough two minutes after setting off both boys were snoring like miniature versions of their Daddy, in the back. What a wonderful day we had for a wonderful family and the most worthwhile cause. I drove home (somewhat badly!) feeling contented that I had finally met someone I feel such a promising bond with and that we had honoured Matilda Mae well and she would be smiling her cheeky, beautiful smile down on us from her place in the Universe. At 4:30pm I parallel parked like a pro’ outside my flat and smiled back at my sleeping boys, feeling a little emotionally and physically exhausted… and so, so lucky.