Ode to a Special Angel

Dear Della

For some reason my love you have been pulled to my attention this week. It started with your birthday on Sunday (21 again!) A good friend of mine died on Tuesday and I am wondering if this is all to say you will help her settle.

When I was pregnant with you a good friend of mine, David Matheson, complimented me. He said he had never found pregnant ladies particularly good to look at but he said I glowed. I loved you from the first moment I realised I was pregnant. I knew you were a girl and I didn't have any names other than Della. (When I was pregnant with Brad, I knew he was a boy and had no other name for him. And when Leanne arrived both you and I compromised on a name – I put in Lee and you put in Anne – again no other name was found. We knew it was a girl. The only problem was that the name was spelt wrong on her birth certificate. It should have been Lianne.

I can remember travelling with you in the car when you were a tiny baby. In those days we put car seats on the front seat – not realising how dangerous it was. At the robot I would turn to you and your expression often humbled me. I seemed to see the wisdom of ages past shining out of your eyes. We really seemed to make a connection that transcended all understanding. I remember commenting on it with dad who did not seem surprised at it. You loved me to sing to you when I drove the car. You wept whenever I sang Rolf Harris's "Two little Boys". When Brad and Leanne arrived they also "enjoyed" that song – the crying erupting from the back seat was distracting!

You were such a lovely child – you were never jealous of Brad and Leanne. You seemed to have an understanding beyond your years. You loved music, books, dancing and singing. For some reason the Cat in the Hat disturbed you. I am not sure why. You kept on telling me that he came to the door one night and I had to check that he didn't come in and mess your room.

You also hated witches. You had a book that you refused to touch because there was a witch in it. You had nightmares about it. Finally I took the book (checked there was nothing on the otherside of the picture) and said "Should I tear it out?" That made you so happy. So I teared it out and gave the book back to you. You still would not take it. I finally went and got an ashtray and matches, crumpled the witch in the ashtray and set her alight. You watched with big eyes until there was only ash left. I had to throw the ash in the rubbish bin outside. (I'm just glad you didn't make me bury it!) Only then did you take the book. You couldn't talk properly yet but whenever you got to the missing page you sad "bad witch".

Another thing I remember about you is the scrap book of pictures that I made for you. One picture really upset you. You kept on saying "HOT, HOT." While I looked at you with no comprehension. You finally took me to the back door, made me open the door and help you down the first step. You then sat briefly on the step, jumped up and said "Hot!" The penny dropped. You were forever the actress! The back step got very hot in summer and you had tried to sit on it once and had got a bit burnt. The lady in the picture was sitting on what looked like a step. You must have though what a dumb mom you had!

You loved acting and won acting award after acting award. I donated a cup to Pinetown Girls High in your honour. David Randle loved using you in plays. I can remember the scream you made when the actress just could not do it. Even though you did not go to Brettonwood, your first guest appearance was as a scream. You loved coming to play practice with me. David enjoyed it because you always made coffee for everyone. You got on well with all the cast members and made yourself as useful as you could. Brad and Leanne often came to rehearsals as well but I don't think you missed a single one.

David couldn't wait to direct you in a play. When he moved to PBHS, he cast you in the lead. I have the video but am too scared to watch it. Maybe as a family we need to. 
You also helped Stephen Cloete with his magic shows. Cristen is working with him now. 

You were my rock when I was busy at competitions with Leanne. You helped with Brad and took matters in your own hands by phoning dad on several occasions. When I decided to study computers, I would make a meal in the slow cooker in the morning and at night, you would make sure that Brad, Leanne, your father and you ate and you would put aside some for me for when I got home. You would make sure that homework was done – so much pressure I put on you my love – I am sorry. I couldn't have done it without you.

Brad, Della, Leanne

My sole regret is that for the last 6 weeks of your life I hardly saw you. We chatted by phone but one of us would have to be with mom and the other would have to be at the house with Leanne. It was cruel that you followed dad 6 weeks later. Alf said it had to be. You worked together in the health shop and there was work to do that needed both of you.

Della and Leanne

Della and Brad

Myself, Denise and Della

I'm sorry I battle to say goodbye. I hope it is not restricting you but you were very precious. I frequently had the same nightmare when you were young and it continued into your teens. It only stopped on your death. I would wake up in a cold sweat. A plane had crashed at the bottom of our road. Leanne and Brad would run screaming to the house. You were caught under it. I think I was being prepared for your death – even the manner was a premonition – not a plane but a car. Love look down on us and help protect us until it is time to see you again.