Today we were walking by the harbour and I heard a girl calling to her brother, his name was George. I felt a catch in my chest and I had to see what this George looked like. This George was about 8. Did he look like my George? Of course not. Would our George have been balancing on the back of the boat trailer where it attaches to the car grinning at his own daring and cleverness as we pulled our boat up the slipway? Oh I'd very much to think so.
It was somewhat of a coincidence. Amy has been blogging about her feelings when coming across a new baby sharing her Liam's name. And working out how to find peace with it. My maternal Grandfather was George but I haven't met another George since we lost ours. It felt a little strange but it was ok.