The first star left of the moon

The time is 8:40am,and once again I am in my usual place by the computer,having slept in spells through the night;my slumber interrupted by cramps and spasms that necessitated rising and walking for a little before they eased.I have grown used to the pain in my hands and legs,and although irritating,I find myself dealing with them,if not easily,then adequately enough.In my periods of wakefulness in the night,I was drawn to the moon,and the first star to the left of it;for that star is my first born child,a daughter whom I lost in another lifetime,when I was the man I used to be long ago.My daughter was born on September 21st 1979,when I was a young man who sang for a living;we called her Elisabeth Dawn which rapidly became LD for short,and she became the apple of her daddy's eye from the moment she was born.I was besotted by her,and I vowed to be the best daddy that God ever put on earth.A few short days later,we were given the news that our beautiful little girl had been born with a hole in her tiny heart.My whole world collapsed,she needed an operation quickly if she was to survive.I remember sitting numbly in the hospital,afraid to even think,afraid to breathe,and being more frightened than I could ever remember.She survived the operation and I tearfully offered my thanks to God,swearing that I would dedicate my life to Him if He would only let her live.He heard my prayers,and my own little super hero pulled through.Her life thereafter was a life of pain and sickness,various spells in hospital and yet more operations,but what a fighter she was!.I spent as much time with her as I could,sleepless sessions by her hospital bed,and at home when she was well enough.I was amazed at her appetite for life,and her inner happiness,she glowed with anticipation at the beginning of every day,and I loved her with such a passion.As time went on,circumstances and the stress of caring for such a sick child took it's toll,and her mother and I separated;but we remained best friends and loved our girl intensely.It was February 14th 1987 when her mother called me;our girl was very ill,and she was not expected to live through the night.I couldn't breathe,my chest seemed to be crushed under the unseen weight of mountains,and grief swept over me like a tidal wave.I journeyed through the night and reached the hospital at around 3:00am.When I entered my daughter's room,she was lying in bed,so pale,like an alabaster doll,her little chest rising and falling slowly;and I sat with her.It was 5:20am,and the night was succumbing to the grey light of dawn,she opened her eyes,the most beautiful shade of pale green,smiled the most beautiful smile I had ever seen and said,almost in a whisper,"I'm tired daddy and I want to go to sleep now",she placed her hand in mine,and I said,"Ok honey,daddy's here,go to sleep baby",and she turned her face,took the longest breath;and then she was gone.The hours afterwards were just a blur and I remember very little,twenty four hours before,I had been singing on a stage somewhere,and I was a father.Now my world had changed forever and I felt I would never sing again.They say time is a great healer,but time for me has not altered the intense pain I feel every Christmas,or every Valentine's day since.Time has eased my pain to a dull ache,but it takes very little to have that ache open to a raw,searing red hot wound.I have been aware lately,of a hunger to be with my little girl,and although I have other children,and indeed grandchildren,my family somehow seems incomplete,like a jigsaw puzzle with the last piece missing.It is at times like these that I feel somehow disloyal to the family that I know love me so much,yet I cannot help myself.I miss my little girl,and there are times when I have an overpowering urge to be with her,but for this day journal,I will remain for my other children,and my wife,alive;and be content with looking at the moon tonight,and blowing a kiss to the first star to the left of it;night night kitten,daddy loves you.