1:00:45 – 1:04:30

Dear Caleb,
I remember when your mum first told me she was expecting you; I was so happy, I had guessed it correctly. I excitedly bought her all the books on pregnancy. You were gonna make me an Yeeyee!


On 6 Dec 2006 you came into this world at a hefty 4.2kg, though at that time I had no idea how big that was on a scale of babies. And how big you came into this world was how big you lived your life. You were the perfect baby. You made everyone laugh, you had the biggest smile and the cutest laugh. There was not one person who did not love you when they met you.
Everyone saw your outer talents – your innate gift for music, your love for basketball, but those who had the privilege to spend time with you saw more. I was there to bring you to the hospital when Evan was born, & I remember your excitement at getting to hold him, even when you patted him a little too hard. You had such curiosity at everything, yet you did not run wild. You just took it in with those wide eyes of yours.


You hated losing, and when we would play board games, if you were losing, you would question why you were so bad at the game! Now why does that sound so much like your dad? Though your dad would say he never loses at games. (Maybe just Monopoly Deal. Yes yes, that’s a stupid game, I hear your answer.) Caleb, you wanted to be like your dad so much, and you sought his approval all the time. I don’t want to speak for him, but you’ve done all of us proud. I can’t imagine losing your firstborn like that, it’s like losing the biggest part of your heart, the part that has grown with you all these years.


You were a responsible oldest son, and my heart often ached at how much you restrained yourself, telling me that you wanted to buy the cheapest item on the menu so you could save us some money. And I remember my answer to you then – God’s love is lavish, and He didn’t hold back when He gave us His son. So go ahead, buy what you want to eat. I love you enough for that.


Heaven must really want you there with them, Caleb, for God to take you away from us. I hope you’re basking in God’s lavish love now, just spread some to us back here who are pining for you. It’s difficult, Caleb, to imagine the days ahead without you. I can’t believe I won’t get to see you go to college, to see you get married, and for you to meet your littlest cousins. You promised me before that you won’t be taller than me till you’re 13, and I don’t have photographic evidence of that. I wonder if I should have made the date later, so you would have stuck around longer. I never got to hear you in person when your voice broke, though I’m thankful for technology that let us sing karaoke together across the miles.


There cannot be words enough to fill in the gap that the years ahead will bring. So I’m going to end off with 1 song Caleb will always sing in our karaoke sessions, which I believe speaks of heaven, and maybe he’s singing it in his angelic voice now:


“And at last I see the light

And it’s like the fog has lifted

And at last I see the light

And it’s like the sky is new

And it’s warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted

All at once everything looks different

Now that I see you”

Your Yeeyee misses you beyond words, Caleb. I love you.