Fly, fly precious one.

Today (27-4) is the anniversary of Christopher's funeral... it was heartbreaking of course. I remember having a breakdown on the way in the car, then walking up to the chapel holding my mummy and daddy's hands like a little girl. It was cloudy and I felt so sick. Seeing the casket I just broke down again... his poor Daddy had to carry him to the front on to the stand- he had the teddy bear my aunty knitted him and a single white rose. They played the wrong music (I wanted "Bring Him Home" the Les Miserables soundtrack) and I wish they had gotten it right because the rest of the service was beautiful, held by the same Minister that baptised him. As we came out the sun shone bright, it was warm. I didn't know what to say to people! "Thanks for coming"?! Me and Lee went on to the hospital to see our little fighter, I remember that night he moved in to the next incubator. My Ninna and Grandma got to meet him aswell. Then we went to the wake, where a lovely buffet was provided, we were not charged for it thanks to the owners being close friends of ours. I'm tired, I haven't cried properly for their birthday and I don't know if I need to but I feel like I should? Or should I be happy Harry's here? I miss him, I long to hold him again and do more than I did with him. I don't know what- don't ask me that. I don't know, I just hurt. He is our hero, he was tired- he told us, we held him, and he went to sleep knowing we were ok.