Today I was privileged to be part of a very special Remembrance Service held in the tiny chapel at the Royal Berkshire Hospital in Reading.
We gathered - midwives, chaplains, members of support groups, friends, grandparents, sisters, brothers and parents.
We remembered our babies.
Those born sleeping.
Those whose lungs were too little to sustain life.
Those gone before we could tell them how much we loved them.
Those babies we hoped for and now missed.
In one way it was obvious that the people there in that small, candlelit chapel didn't need a special service to remember.
They always remembered.
In another way it was obvious that they did.
They, we... needed to stop on a sunny breezy June day and gather in the coolness of that chapel.
We needed a chance to join our remembering.
We needed - by our presence in that sacred space - to remember together.
To accompany one another in our remembering.
So we sang and listened.
We wept and prayed.
We lit candles and we spoke their names.
We said by our gathering - we remember you.
My you and your you.