I hear you before I see you. The faint rambling of your footsteps on the carpet as you weave a sleepy trail from your bedroom to the side of my bed.
“Hi mummy,” you whisper to me.
I notice your big chocolate eyes staring down at me in the shadows. You’re wearing your dinosaur pyjamas and an eye mask which sits atop your head like a pair of goggles.
“What time is it?” you ask, searching for any opportunity to get up and open your presents. It’s too early, so I pull back the covers in silent invitation. You snuggle in, your tiny body like a hot water bottle next to mine.
“Happy birthday beautiful,” I say.
You turn your head towards the cracks of light filtering through the blinds. You lay still except for your long eyelashes, which gently fan your face. You’re mesmerised by the birdsong from the park across the road. We’ll steal a few precious moments of peace like this, before the world whisks you away.
When your brother and sister wake up we open your presents on our bed. There’s a Juventus kit with your name and the number nine on it. A new soccer ball. A pair of Ronaldo boots.
We have bacon sandwiches for breakfast. You’ll share sour worms with your mates at school. You’ll play soccer on the oval at lunchtime, your face still red at pick-up. We’ll have a party on the weekend at Flip Out because that’s your favourite place to go.
Afterwards, your five besties will stay over and we’ll have pizza for dinner. You’ll run around the backyard kicking balls and wrestle each other on the trampoline. Later on, you’ll play FIFA and watch a movie. When we sing happy birthday and eat cake, you’ll let Milo lick the crumbs off your face.
I will kiss you and hug you all day long, safe in the assumption that I have another year, another lifetime with you.
But not today. Not ever again.
For Levi’s 9th birthday on November 15, 2019, we’re encouraging everyone to donate $9 in his memory to help other kids with DIPG. Donate here https://donate.ccia.org.au/campaign/103/levi-wheeler