A Walk with a Three Year Old Leo

I’ve seen a lot of things that say, when you loose a baby, you don’t just loose a baby, you loose the 5 year old, the teenager, the adult, that should have been. In my goodbye letter to  Leo, I said that we would show him still the places that we love, and the places that we know he would have loved too.

So, today, in an effort to not hide in the house and to make sure we enjoyed the good weather (today is what we now call a ‘Leo Day’, crisp, blue skies and wintery fresh air – as this was the weather the week he was born). I daydreamed about life that could have been, life that should have been…

We went to our local village, which has a lock and weir. An energetic 3 year old Leo, would be skipping along, making loud crashing noises on the metal bridge, wanting to know why the giant tree that had made it’s way down the Thames is now stuck – failing at a giant game of Pooh sticks.

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I would have told him, that when its a busy summer’s day we can come back to sit and watch the boats go through, watching the water rise and lower again, waving to day-trippers.

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As we walked along the river, it was muddy… I could only imagine a little boy attempting to run ahead but getting stuck, loosing a wellyboot in the process and us both trying to not get covered in it whilst popping his little feet back inside. He’d probably later fall over, hands first in mud and exclaim that he was now far too dirty to carry on walking. Carrying him through the muddiest bits would most likely be the consolation prize.

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We’d listen out for helicopters from the nearby military base that we live on – he’d be excited at the sound of a Chinook despite them being background nose everyday of his life. We’d watch them fly over, attempt to wave at the pilots – knowing that they were far to high to see us.

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We would have escaped into the field at the next gate, seeking a break from the slippery mud. An open playground, able to run fast and free.

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We’d spy some Red Kites flying low (a local regular) and joke that they were going to spot him and pick him up for dinner.

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Covered in mud, we’d take a long route back to the car through the allotments and under the bridge. He’d be so excited that we freely let him walk through the water with us to clean off our boots. He’d probably kick the water, making splashes, getting himself soaked.

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He’d be dumped into the back of the car, boots and socks off, trousers rolled up and carried back in the house ready for lunch.

Oh, Leo. How we miss you. 

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8 thoughts on “A Walk with a Three Year Old Leo

  1. It’s funny the things that remind us of our babes. We do this too, imagine Haven toddling along with us, getting into things, asking questions… In this way, our little ones never leave us, I think.

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