I know that saying ‘goodbye’ to me – your first son, your first child, before having the chance to say ‘hello’ has caused you unimaginable pain. I know that losing me has been hard. I know that, as my daddy, you see it as your duty to protect me and to make sure that I’m okay. I know that me not being down on Earth with you and mummy hurts you badly. I know that not being able to help me makes you feel weak and helpless.
I want you to know that I’m being looked after by mummy’s Grandmas, Sue and Lilian, as well as Granny and Grandad Cullen; I have made friends here too with the little girls and boys gone before me. Here, my eyes are open and I can see! Heaven is such a beautiful place. I’m not scared, daddy. I’m looking down on you and mummy from afar, and I know that one day I will see you again.
One day, you will see me with my eyes open, daddy. One day you will see me move. One day you will hear my cry. One day you will hear my laugh that you so long to hear.
I’m proud to call you my daddy. I often point you out to all the other angel babies and tell them who you are … ‘Look! There’s my daddy. He’s so brave. He’s so strong.’
I know that watching mummy go through all that immense pain, and watching me come in to the world silent was like a dagger through your heart. I know up to that point that a part of you still believed the doctors were wrong and I would be born with air in my lungs and crying. I know that the silence in the room when I arrived Earth side was devastating for you. I’m so proud of you, daddy, for staying so strong – even if you don’t feel like you did at the time.
Thank you for looking after my mummy. Thank you for being there when she has needed a shoulder to cry on. Thank you for being there when I came in to the world with my eyes closed. Thank you for holding mummy’s hand when she needed your guidance and your support. Thank you for standing by mummy’s side when my little coffin was being lowered in to the ground.
Thank you, daddy, for facing your biggest fear and carrying me home.
Thank you for finding the strength you have always carried inside you and carrying me in my coffin in to the church when you didn’t feel you could. I know it meant a lot to you that you held me one last time.
I know that you now miss out on the rest of your life with me. You were looking forward to watching me grow; teaching me how to ride a bike; teaching me how to play football; taking me to my first concert and on my first ‘boys’ holiday. You were excited to get to know the gentleman that you and mummy would have raised me to be. You were apprehensive, you were nervous, you were wondering how you would do it, but you love me. You love me, daddy, and that’s all that mattered.
Mummy always talked to me when I was in her tummy, and she would often tell me how she was so excited to watch you become a daddy for the first time. She knew you were going to be an amazing one. You are an amazing daddy. You may not be able to hold me, you may not be able to sit up all night with me crying trying to console me, you may not be able to comfort me when I’m sick or after a nasty doctor gives me injections, you may not be able to cuddle me when I need you or kiss my knees better when I fall down, you may not be able to do the things that people assume good daddies do. But you love me. You help keep my memory alive, you honour the fact that I existed, you speak of me daily and come to see me at my resting place all the time. You didn’t only love me in life, you love me in death. That, daddy, makes you amazing. Daddies to angel babies can be the best daddies, too.
Daddy, please know that I’m doing okay, and that there was nothing at all you could have done to save me. I know that, if yours and mummy’s love alone could have saved me, I would have lived forever.
I look forward to the day that I see you again and I can teach YOU how to jump on the clouds and soar upon rainbows!
I love you daddy.
Your little boy, your little miracle,