The letter I sent you arrived back, I know you never read it- well you couldn't, could you? It arrived back yesterday and today one arrived from you. Doesn't make sense does it? A letter came and you didn't. The jingles here and you aren't. Christmas is coming and you're not.
Stupid work trip, I wish I'd gone too. I would have reminded you to look both ways, made you catch a taxi instead of juggling parcels. You should have let me come. They sent your parcels you know, they came before your letter. The jumpsuit saying "daddy's girl" was perfect.
She's here you know Kell. She came the minute I heard the news that you were gone, as if by rushing she might still catch you. I still have a small bump where you last placed your hand, I hope it never goes. I called her Kelly so she has your name and your eyes.
I had to get your brother to help with that cot we bought, I couldn't get it to click together on my own. We did it crying, not one argument, who would have thought a flat pack could be erected without an argument! We never managed.
We had a sausage sizzle in the yard your brother and I, crying, cursing you, finding your face in the baby's features.
That jingle is back, I'm humming it for Kelly, she loves it! Kell, where do I send this letter? The dead letter office I hear you chuckle. No, I think I'll burn it, scatter its ashes with yours so you will always know that Kelly and I love you and miss you. I'll do my best Kell - we'll manage. Hum with me?