Trying to avoid a tragic mum’s terrible legacy
And her poor, poor family. How can such a clever, funny, ebullient woman, die so young and so suddenly? Initially it seemed as though she may have done a Sylvia Plath, dying of depression while leaving two babies behind — except there was no suicide note, no signs of depression on the social media sites on which she was so prolific. Her tweets were funny, smart, with no hint of suicidal intent.
She was all about joyful parenthood, full of love for her sons, who were, she wrote in a Telegraph column, carrying on “this ancient tradition of exotic yet pointless names” — Astala Dylan Willow and Phaedra Bloom Forever, aged one and two. But far from having post-natal depression, she gave all the appearances of loving being a mummy, of embracing parenthood with cheerful gusto, of welcoming its anchoring effect.
