I wish you were here.

On Sunday, you missed the witnessing of Harry becoming a member of the Catholic Club. A somewhat reluctant member, Harry thought it appropriate that because it was his baptism, that he could parade around the Church in a  nonchalant manner, running onto the altar and generally monkeying around, much to the delight of his guests.

You see Harry has become a very independent little boy; he knows his own mind and he’s rather decisive. I can hear you now, “Oh he’s a little love” you’d say, “He’s the double of his Mother when it comes to knowing his own mind” and of course, you’d be right, as Mothers often are.

You’d have laughed as Father Bernard poured the holy water over Harry’s head, for Harry, most reluctant at this point to even be in Church, shouted out “More! More!” much to Father’s bemusement (never has he heard a child shout for more holy water he later conceded!).

Dressed in his little dickie bow, shirt and shorts with braces, you’d have been the typical doting Grandmother. Nothing would have kept you from celebrating Harry’s big day and you’d be there, always in the background, yet always the life and soul of any family gathering. Oh how I wish you were here.

“More! More!”

Don’t think I didn’t smell you in the kitchen Sunday night when Harry was in bed and I was home alone, as quick as you were there, you were gone.

When Harry’s asked where Nanny Karen is, he does the star motion to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, for he knows you as a Star in the sky, looking down from us all. He’s the apple of the family’s eye and is terribly adored by everyone too – a proper little boy, with a heart of gold and a beautiful  little laughter that’s ridiculously infectious!

I wish you were here, but I know you’re never far away. And forever, always in our hearts xx.

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