Remembrance Bells                                                     1

When you walk down our stairs there is a colourful picture on the wall facing you. It reminds us to try and live a positive life. It has reference to singing, laughing and enjoying the small things. You miss it on most journeys up and down but occasionally it will catch your eye, you reflect for a moment and move on. 

The stairs then turn at a 45-degree angle for the last three or four steps. On the right-hand side is our kitchen window looking out over the lowlands and forests of south Co. Galway. There are light beige coloured curtains held up by a similar coloured wooden pole running the length of the window. On the near side of this pole and hanging right beside you as you are on the third step down is a set of bells.

There are four of them in total. They are hanging from a thin worn but chic looking piece of rope that has a rusty feel to it. Something you might find on a small sailing boat, that is, if the sailing boat was about the size of a small child! The four bells hang one after another in a straight line down. I call them the Swiss bells. If you can picture your typical Swiss cow on the side of an Alpine mountain and often they have these square shape bells around there necks so the farmer can hear them from a distance. Or maybe that is just a cliche thing set up for tourist selfies or maybe they are just on the cover of Milka chocolate bars! Either way that is the kind of bells they are. Unlike the picture you occasionally see on the first part of the stairs, the added sense of the bells is that you sometimes hear them as well. When you do, you immediately think of that little baby boy or little baby girl that did not quite make into this world.

When you or someone else tip-off them on the way up or down the stairs or sometimes the draft of the back door opening causes them to tinkle softly. It doesn’t matter where you are in the house, everything stops momentarily in your mind to remember what might have been and wish that little soul a peaceful journey.

Sometimes when the little one also hears them chime she looks up and asks.

“What’s that noise Daddy?”

“That’s your little brother or sister,” I tell her, “who is looking down on us, protecting us and making sure we are all right” 

“Oh, ok daddy, watch cartoons now?”

“Yes baby, we can”

The bells were given to us by my sister in law after our miscarriage over three years ago now. My wife’s sister has the unfortunate expertise of being through five miscarriages. She gave the bells to us to hang up and remember that there was a little life once that fought hard to be part of our family.

She gave them to us not to forget them and on occasion when the bell tolls, think of them and in your own way, either pray for them or wish them well on their path.

She gave them to us as a reminder not to be afraid to talk about miscarriage and the crippling effect it may have on a couple and on a family. Many people, she would say, just don’t talk about it. It is like it is some kind of social taboo. People are then left with these feelings of sadness, despair and emptiness that they may not know what to do with. Just because there hasn’t been a service or a funeral does not mean that there hasn’t been a devastating loss. 

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So I gladly follow the unwritten rules of these remembrance bells.

I hear and I remember the little soul that just didn’t make it.

I hear and I don’t forget to pray for them as they watch over us.

I hear and I share and talk with others and let them know that it is ok, it is more common than you think and it is no one’s fault.

I hear and I remember to be grateful for the two little souls I do have. The ones that keep me up all night, refuse to eat their porridge and draw pictures of Peppa Pig on the sitting room wall!

Small price to pay.

Safe journey little one.