Tonight, I should have been busy wrapping presents for my soon-to-be one year old boy.

Tonight, I should have tucked my boy safely in his cot, having rocked him softly to sleep, having caressed his sweet cheeks and having kissed his sleepy eyes.

Tonight, I should have stayed up late making sure the birthday cake is decorated, the cards are bought and the party venue is ready for him.

Tonight, I should have counted my blessings up to two. A girl…and a boy…A gentleman’s family…My dream come true.

Tonight, I should have gone to bed with dreams and hopes for a little boy who will grow into a reliable, loving and gentle young man.

Instead…

Instead, my house is quiet but my heart is in turmoil.

Instead of running after an active nearly-one year old, I stare into empty space, desperate for someone little to fill my arms.

Instead of making future plans, I make survival plans.

Instead of cake and joy and silliness there is pain and loneliness and anger.

Many of you, kind people, have offered to be with us tomorrow, on Georgie’s birthday. But we have chosen to spend it privately and quietly, just like we did his funeral.

But if you feel the need to celebrate Georgie’s life, please take a moment tomorrow and light a candle in his memory.

Write him a few lines and post them here or on his Facebook page.

Draw him a picture.

Buy his a little cake and let your kids blow the candle off, like Emma will with ours.

Donate a few quid to a cancer charity.

Remember him. Don’t let his pain and death be in vain. Don’t let the veil of time fall over the memories and dull them into forgetfulness.

Let your smile shine, just like his did. Let it light this world and make it a tiny bit better. Even for a second.

I wish I were wiser and braver, little man.

I wish I were stronger and say that I see the good in what happened to you.

I wish I could be able to be thankful for your short existence instead of resenting God for taking you away from us.

I wish you were here.

Yes, I am sure the cakes in heaven are sweeter, the love is grander and the party is magnificent.

But I would have wished you could see the little cake we bought for you and play with the boy toys you should have received on your first birthday.

You should have had both.

A life here and an eternity there.

I miss you.

Plainly and painfully.