When we wrote Norah’s eulogy, we knew she had changed our lives beyond measure. We knew she had touched the lives of our family and friends. We knew we would shout her name loud and often. We could never have imaged the impact her short life would have, and continues to have.
Norah has already raised £1465 for the Paediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) that cared for her, she has inspired donations of crocheted blankets and octopus toys for neonatal wards, a family bookcase has been set up and book donations made to the PICU, and there are many more plans in the works.
As part of #NorahsWildRumpus, we are raising money for the Lily Mae Foundation, who have been a great support to us in the months after Norah’s death. Donations to the Lily Mae Foundation can be made here: Just Giving: Lily Mae.
We spend a lot of time, as we have for the past year or so, talking about what Norah’s future could be, how she would look, what she would like, how her laugh might sound. Which parts of us she would be lucky to get, and which traits we might be apologising for. Within a few hours of meeting Norah we could see that she looked like the very best of us combined. We can only speculate on what else may have been.
She may have been intelligent and outspoken, and joined her mum in debates about the injustices of the world.
She may have been chatty and extroverted, and waffled on happily alongside her dad.
She may have liked movies, or dinosaurs, or bikes, or books, or Lego.
She may have been sporty, or dramatic, or geeky, or musical, or adventurous, or quiet, or eccentric.
She may have changed lives across the globe, and she may have just changed ours.
All we can know is this: She is loving, and bright, and curious, and fun, and innocent, and beautiful. She is our daughter Norah, and she could not be more loved.