One month.

I wish you were here now.

Today you would be one month old.  We would all be together, and your daddy and I would laugh and giggle at the funny faces you would be making.  We would play together and stroke the soft, wrinkly soles of your tiny feet, and feel your fingers growing stronger as they gripped ours.

We would be together, and it would be wonderful.

But you are not here, and I know that wishing is fruitless.

I’m always thinking of you, and I will never stop wishing that you were here, growing up with us, making friends with your cousins – I know you’d love playing with them.

Everyone would love you – everyone loved you before they knew you existed.  And we love you still.

We had hoped for a lifetime with you – we had hoped to help you grow from a tiny boy into a man, and to get to know you – your character, your hopes, your triumphs and your falls.

We only got 6 months, and we knew so little.

I wish you were here.

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