I spent days after Evalyn’s death looking through library bookshelves trying to find a story I could read to my four-year-old son so that he could understand a little better why his sister wasn’t with us anymore. But I couldn’t find a story that was right for him. Evalyn was stillborn. She was not ill. She was not old. She had not given him memories of the two of them that he could look back on. How could I find him a story that he could relate to?
It turns out I couldn’t. So one night, I sat down and wrote a poem that we often read together.
For Ieuan . . . . From Evalyn.
I have a little sister,
Who no one else can see.
My sister lives high in the sky
And watches over me.
I know that she is always there
In lots of different ways.
Once, when I played on the beach
She chased me in the waves.
I write her letters on balloons
And watch them float up high.
I know she reads them – she responds!
With rainbows in the sky.
Sometimes she will make it rain
So I can jump in puddles.
And she left behind a teddy bear
Who gives me special cuddles.
She likes to run beside me,
I can feel her in the breeze.
She’s good at climbing sunbeams
And I’m good at climbing trees!
My sister’s good at counting games,
We count the stars at night.
As I say the numbers “One! Two! Three!”
She’ll make sure they shine bright.
When daytime ends and bedtime comes
She’ll send good dreams to me.
I love my little sister lots,
And she – I know – loves me.