17 tcf.org.uk to be celebrating this milestone birthday with us and her friends. I spent much of the day wondering what she would have been doing aged 30 – who knows? – and thinking back to when Rosie was born and her far too short life with us. But it is also conversely a joyful day too – as we remember back to the day she came into our lives and started our family for us. We were incredibly happy, and we thought, as all parents do, that she was the most beautiful little girl imaginable (until Natalie came along!). I was constantly astounded that between us we had made such an amazing little girl. With her dark eyes, dark skin and blond hair I always thought she was quite striking looking – and added to that was her crooked smile and love of life and of nature. Rosie loved flowers and the natural world; at a very young age she knew a lot of plant names. My mum had taught her all about plants – so she would often amaze me and say things like ‘that’s a mallow mummy’ when she was only three or four years old. Since her loss many parents of children she knew have sought me out and told me that Rosie was a kind child who would look out for the underdog or their child who was being bullied. I don’t know how much of this is true – as she could be very mean to her little sister at times – but these comments are always so lovely to hear. When I go now and volunteer at TCF retreats, supporting and being alongside other bereaved parents, I sometimes facilitate a session called a ‘memory café’ where we use prompts as questions to share memories of our children. It is emotional and sometimes sad of course as we can’t really make any new memories, but it is also a way that we can continue the bond with our children. We often end up laughing and smiling at our amazing children. As I am facilitating parents sharing memories of their own children, it can prompt me to remember times with Rosie that I thought I had forgotten. Now I find these memories of my daughter comforting. Although the memories can still be painful, they really do sustain me. Most of the time (the sadness sometimes creeps in too) I feel truly glad that Rosie was in our lives even if the time was far too short. The words of this poem (among many others) have helped me over the years: The Gift Maybe some people aren’t destined to be with us for long on this earth. Maybe some are only travelling through, or maybe they live their lives faster than the rest of us do. They don’t need to stay a hundred years down here in order to get everything done. They manage to get it done in no time at all. Some people come into our lives in order to deliver something to us; a gift, a lesson, help and assistance, something we need at that time, and that is the reason they come – just on a flying visit, so to speak. Your child has taught you something about love, about giving, about the importance of another human being. That was their gift to you. They came to teach you these things and then they went again. Maybe they didn’t have to stay any longer, because they delivered the gift and then they were free to travel on, because they were an extra ordinary soul. But the gift will remain with you forever. Carolyn’s nine year old daughter, Rosie, died from an aneurysm on 4 December 2004. She and her partner Gary, have a surviving daughter, Natalie, who was aged 6 at the time of her sister’s death. Carolyn started writing this article on the 20 year anniversary of Rosie’s death – on 4 December 2024 – and finished it on 21 May 2025 on Rosie’s 30th birthday. COMPASSION | FEATURE - 20 YEARS AND A 30TH BIRTHDAY
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