26/06/2026
I never fail to be amazed by the pure kindness and innocence of my daughter (of all children, in fact). And although I can’t pretend my journey into motherhood was sunshine and rainbows, she has been a light in so many of my darkest moments. Never because I asked or expected her to be, but in the way children often just know exactly what to say, or accidentally be the thing you really need in a moment. The intuition in their tiny little bodies is a bit mad, isn’t it?
For Father’s day, my six-year-old wrote a list of reasons why she loves her daddy. I’d been tearful and she kept looking at me, I’d smile and she would ask if they were happy tears and I said sort of a mixture, but it’s ok.
“Why don’t you do one for your daddy?” she asked me. Like she was an experienced therapist setting me some homework. “You know what, Lily? I will.” I always gab on about writing being therapy so I knew I should put my money where my mouth is on this one.
The tears poured and when I’d finished she took it from me and said, “I’m just going to put it somewhere ready for them to take it.”
“Who?” I asked.
“The angels,” she said. And off she skipped, with the paper flapping behind her, leaving me to scramble for the air back in my lungs. What an insane magic. Even the littlest minds know that love doesn’t stop because someone dies. Maybe that’s why I’ve always believed that children are closer to heaven than the rest of us.
❤️
