How you doing, my lovely?
James is doing so well. His cheeks are chubby, his legs are chubby, his hands are, well, they have the cutest dimples.
He smiles everyday, a tiny giggle which will become laughter in the next few weeks.
James loves his bath and weirdly enough, having his bum changed too.
We read to him and sing and, on the odd occasion, dance to soothe him to sleep.
But you know all this already.
James turned 8 weeks on Wednesday.
Everyday for the last 8 weeks I have told him about you.
I told him about our drunken nights at Faces nightclub.
He knows all about Pizza Express-gate when you threw up on me on the train home. I still miss that coat.
He knows that most of the pictures I have of you are with a wig on. Chemotherapy took your funky locks, but you made up with it with a wig that was better than your original hair.
He knows you were a bolshy, took no shit from anyone, kind of girl. You scared me sometimes, but only in a ‘woah, she’s actually going to rip someone a new arse’ kind of way. It’s why I love you though.
But James knows how great you were too, that’s for sure. He knows that you arranged an anti-Valentines day because we both split up with our boyfriends and sworn off men.
That’s where we made Kelis’s song ‘My Milkshake brings all the boys to the yard’ our anthem.
I still booty wiggle to that song.
I told him it was YOU, who introduced ME to ASOS. I’m still paying off a credit card because if that 😉
But more than anything, He knows how much I miss you.
James knows that the last night I saw you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
I keep going back to that night. I knew when I left to go home that I was coming back to see you in the morning. But my heart knew I wouldn’t get to you in time.
I hugged you so tightly, I hope you know that.
I grabbed your hand and felt your morphine pump. But it was me that was numb.
5 years is already too long to be without you.
My friend, my best friend, my Eve.
I will tell my boy everything about you, just like you can see everything about James from wherever you are.
I’m imagining you are shopping somewhere fabulous, New York perhaps; that would be a perfect heaven for you.
Buy me a coat, you still owe me 😉
I love you, Eve.
And James does too x
Eve Angela Evans 6-12-1980 – 24-6-2006