My Christmas Wish

I don’t like all the people. They make me feel hot and flustered. They keep asking how I am. I don’t know how I am.

So I go into the loft and hide until they’ve gone. I feel safe there.

And when it’s dark I look through my telescope and wish you were here.

Your son

Joe

Dear Mum,

Dad says I need a suit for the funeral.

I didn’t like the suits I tried on. They are itchy and scratchy and don’t feel right.

Dad seems to think it’s important.

I think you won’t care.

Dad got cross when I told him.

So I am wearing an itchy suit for the funeral.

I don’t want Dad to be cross.

Your son

Joe

Dear Mum,

Today was your funeral.

Dad, Granny and I followed your coffin into the church.

There were a lot flowers on top of it.

Six men carried you into the church. They must be very strong.

I couldn’t picture you in the coffin. I remember seeing your body at the hospital. You looked like you were asleep. But I couldn’t see you asleep in your coffin. Were you really there?

There were too many people in church. It made me agitated. I wish you could have been there to help me calm down.

Granny helped me instead. So that was good.

Dad cried.

Then Granny cried.

I didn’t know what to do.

So I cried too.

I think that’s what you do at funerals.

Your son

Joe

Dear Mum,

It feels like a long time since I have seen you. Though it is only two weeks.

Granny came for Christmas. It was sad. We all missed you. Christmas shouldn’t be sad should it?

Nothing feels right now you are gone. I wonder if Christmas will ever feel right again?

I try to picture you. But you are not here. Where have you gone?

Where does anyone go when they die?

Logically I know you are in the ground. I have put flowers on your grave. Your bones will rot and crumble away. One day there will be nothing left.

But if there is nothing left, why do I remember you?

Your son

Joe

Dear Mum,

I looked at Venus tonight through my telescope. The one you gave me for my last birthday.

Do you remember telling me that Grandad was a star when he died?

Maybe you are too.

If you are a star, I think you must be Venus because it is the evening and the morning star. And you used to get me up in the morning and put me to bed at night when I was little.

It is a long time since you tucked me into bed. But I wish you were still here to do it.

Now it’s just Dad and me. And nothing is the same.

When I look at Venus I will think of you.

And I will remember you always.

Your son