I'm a good boy.

I am you know. I try very hard. Harder every day.

Daddy told me to be and now for mummy I need to be good. Good and strong. But it's so, so, SO hard. Mummy said it was all right to cry but she cries too when I do. I don't want her to be sad. She smiles when I smile, so I have to do it a lot. Have to. Even when it hurts so bad. But I'm a big boy, mummy says I'm the man in the house now and daddy never cried. Even when he was sad...

He was you know sometimes. When mummy was sick, his eyes were very red, like me after a bad dream. That's when I miss him the most, you know, at night. When I wake up after a bad dream and I call him and I forget he's not here. I know I can't, CAN'T, CAN'T forget! It makes mummy cry when I do. I try to remember but sometimes I just forget. I can't help it.

I want him back! And I hate God!

Mummy explained God loved my daddy so much he wanted him by His side. I said we loved daddy more than God and that he should send him back, stop the "dead" thing and bring him back home. Mummy said God couldn't. But I said "He's God he can do what he wants!". She sighed and said : "No, daddy is with the angels now and he's watching over us". I was mad and I cried. "No, NO, NO, NO! I need him, I need Daddy, HERE, NOW!" I was still acting like a baby then, you know. But even now, I don't want him to stay in the sky with angels, I need him home with me! It's not fair. God is bad. He didn't have the right to take my daddy.

Mummy said God took my grandpa too but I didn't know him, so I don't miss him. God can keep him and let me have daddy, can't He?

'Guess Daddy was wrong. He said if you wanted something very much you had to work very hard and it would happen. That's what he said when I won my Karate trophy. I want daddy back much more than I wanted this prize, so very, very much more, but he's not coming back. Why? I know it's God's fault. Gotta be...

I feel him sometimes, you know... daddy watching over me. I hear the music he played for me in my dreams. I miss that a lot. I tried playing the cello yesterday but it sounded awful. Mummy said I could learn if I wanted to. I dunno, maybe...

It was my big birthday yesterday. I am 6 now. I am a big boy. And I'm good. I didn't cry when we went to the cemetery. Me and Mom brought flowers. I wanted to go to see him. I'm sure daddy is not happy there. It's cold and grey and sad. Daddy likes happy things like flowers, and red cars, and trees and chocolate cookies. he must miss all that and me and mummy.

I think he misses Nikita too. I remember Nikita. I liked her. I miss her a little too. She seemed to like daddy very much and I know daddy loved her a lot too. He was always looking at her when she didn't know he was watching. She did it a lot too. Adults do that sometimes. They're strange.

Nikita left after daddy was gone. She didn't come to my birthday. It's too bad. Mummy said she moved out of the country. She sent a card yesterday and a gift too. I was happy and sad because it was the exact thing I wanted, the thing I had asked daddy for.

I remember seeing daddy and her talking before mummy got sick. I hid to hear what they were saying and I'm sure now they were talking about my birthday. They were whispering but I heard them say my name. It was weird 'cause daddy looked sad like he would cry... And Nikita looked angry. Maybe they were fighting over my birthday gift. I guess daddy won because that's what he had promised I 'd got that Nikita sent me.

I told mummy about their fight. She smiled like she smiles now when she doesn't want me to see her cry. I know then I must make funny faces until I make her laugh and smile like before. BEFORE. That's an important word. Things were much better "before". Before daddy left to be with God.

I'm angry now. Angry all the time. I don't think I was "before" but sometimes it's hard to remember.

That's why I was so happy about the gift. It's for painting. There are brushes, and many, many colors, more than I had ever seen! There's a pallette and a strange thing called "Easel". I can draw bigger drawings now. Better too. I have to. Because I'm forgetting daddy's face. It's strange because I miss him so much but his face disappear in my head. It's harder and harder to remember what he looked like. I look at the pictures in my scrap book every night before going to bed but he still goes away farther in my head. I try hard but maybe if I paint him he won't go away. He might even see the painting from the sky and decide I love him so, so much he's got to come home.

I'll paint me and mummy and Nikita too. All the people he loves. He'll see our sad faces and he'll know he must come back! Maybe Nikita will return too then. Mummy said she had gone back to Australia and I looked on the map and yes, it is very far. But I think she wouldn't mind coming back, even if it was a very long trip, if she knew daddy was here. I'll paint now. Maybe I won't be so angry after that. I already found a name for it, it's called "Daddy comes home". If I'm good enough he'll come home, right? Right?

THE END

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