A loveletter
Darling Mia,
I am so unbelievably proud of you, my beautiful girl. So is your daddy. He says that you are the best thing that ever happened to him, and that he didn't even know that such happiness was possible until you arrived into our lives. He is very smart, your daddy.
We love everything about you.
You were alert and bright-eyed, even at only a few weeks old. You were so curious about your world! I loved seeing you watch and figure things out - moving your jungle puzzle pieces on your birthday, gleefully practising walking with your trolley, pressing the music button on your Wheels on the Bus book, learning how to play the triangle. Small victories, and huge accomplishments at the same time.
You loved interaction. Your eyes would gleam, you would do your happy bounces, and trill in your sweet, funny way. Whether it was grinning at the antics of your cousins on skype, or chasing your friends around the sofa, or giggling as we would touch hands through the stair banisters, it was all so much fun.
But we miss you. That is a deep constant pain now. I miss feeling your hands around my legs, and your endless array of sound signals to convey your emotions, preparing your food and dressing you in colourful outfits. As your daddy says, we were a 'little unit.' I miss holding your warm soft body on my hip, feeling your fingers curl around mine, and kissing those incredibly soft red curls. And especially those tender, trusting looks of love you gave me.
You have changed us. You gave us such joy, and even now, I smile through tears at the wonderful, amazing days we had together. But how I hate that they are all in the past tense. I have to admit to you that the world has become a darker, more frightening place now. Life is so uncertain, happiness fragile. I realise that bad things can happen so randomly, so easily, which must mean that good things are equally random too.
But I thank you for your presence and your love. You made our world so very magical. It is poorer without you in it.
I hold onto the idea that you send me signs to say that you can hear me. I don't pretend to understand how life and death work, but I hope very much that the divide is not the abyss it seems to be. I so want to see you again, and cling to the hope that this is possible in some way, shape or form.
I send you such a wave of love, sweet pea. You live in my heart forever. My beautiful red-headed daughter.
Mummy xx