Three // Jessie Blooms

When I think about your third year, it’s very difficult not to think about you becoming a sister to a funny-looking little brother. But you became so much more than that. A few things happened in your third year.

One, you got swine flu and broke your arm, falling off a bed that I made you. Two, you became a sister and immediately became the older sibling.

Right from the first time you saw Casper, it was clear that you were going to be the most incredibly loving sister. The way that you held him as a little baby and the way that you look to him would always be something that stayed with me. Even when you guys argued and fought, I always knew that you loved him.

However, there is one story from your third year that is very special. And that is the story of the pink Rose. Mummy had gone to see a card reader (I’ll let her tell you more about that specific story) who, amongst other things, told mummy that there was a rose that meant something very special. Mummy looked all over the place to find this rose. What made this difficult was the fact that whilst she was told it was pink, this rose only ever came in yellow.

Nevertheless, mummy was given a yellow rose One day, as we were looking out of the window onto our little garden in Dulwich, watching you play, we saw something incredible. This yellow rose... had grown one single pink rose.

I’m not typically one who believes in stories from “the other side”, but this miraculous pink rose bloomed just for you. (If you want the full story, you’ll need to speak to mummy)