So, so still

She was so still. Leo looked at his baby girl over her cot and couldn’t believe he had finally gotten her to sleep. He looked at his little miracle and wondered how he got so lucky. He left the room, looking back one last time at his angel.

He had changed his whole life for that baby girl. The day her mother turned up at his doorstep several months ago and handed her to him, days old, he had to fight to get his head around the fact that suddenly, he was a dad. Her mother made it quite clear that he and he alone was responsible for her.

He went to sleep smiling, remembering that that was the day she sat up on her own for the first time. He was looking forward to the rest of the ‘first times’ that they would share…her first steps…her first day at school…all of it!

The next morning, Leo woke to silence. He made his way into the nursery to wake his drop of heaven, but she was so still. He brushed her cold cheek and gasped, tears beginning to cloud his vision. He picked her up…she was so still. He held her close to his chest and told her that she would never be alone.  

As he sat on the wooden rickety chair, his daughters favourite bunny in his hand, he couldn’t hear all the well wishers or see the people commiserating with him. He felt empty. He just stared at her. His mother snapped him out of his disassociation and told him it was time, it was time to close the coffin. Sudden infant death syndrome they called it at the hospital. He couldn’t help but think that her coffin was so small.

He approached his baby girl for the last time. She looked as if she was sleeping. He placed the bunny beside her, just the way she liked it, and kissed her forehead whispering; ‘sleep tight my angel!’

picture from pixabay