Dear Santa…

Dear Santa

I’m writing on behalf of someone I know, someone very special.

It may be confusing for you.

For he will have a stocking here but no bed to hang it on.

His Christmas jammies will be worn only by our Albie memory bear.

Our house is full of sparky lights yet somehow it is still dark.

He won’t be visiting you at any of your grottos this year, or write you a letter of his own. 

So here I am, doing so on his behalf. 

Maybe you don’t know him? 

Maybe he doesn’t feature on any list?

Maybe you won’t remember him?

He doesn’t need presents anymore, I’m sure where he is he has all that he needs. (Although he’d never say no to another 

T-Rex) 

But there’s a gift I’d like to give him – for you to pass on from me – if you don’t mind? 

When you’re flying back to the North Pole, sack empty, tummy full…could you look out for him and tell him this…

‘I love you, I miss you and Merry merry Christmas kid’.

Then he’ll know – he is remembered. 

He is never off my mind.

Maybe that he even crosses the mind of others who were lucky to know him, or now know of him. He was here. 

We remember him.

Thank you Santa, oh and just incase you can’t remember his face – after all he was only 8 months when you last met – he’s in a white baby grow and has tiny bits of flicking out hair and the biggest gummiest smile. Oh and eyes full of wonder and mischief. You’ll know the one.

Love from

Albies mum

This letter may be to Santa but really it’s a letter to all of you. And the gift would be for me.

All I ask this year, and all the years, is you remember him. It matters so much to me, I’m not even sure why. But I think Albie would like to know he’s remembered too.

So when you scour to the skies with your excited little people looking for that sleigh, take a second glance and notice that star that flickers so very brightly in the background…and think of Albie. 

Remember him always.
Say his name to me.

What a gift that would be.