I knew what it was going to be. I saw the little card in my letter box notifying me that I had a registered item at the post office to collect. I knew what it was going to be. It was the day before my 35th birthday. I didn't want to spend my birthday at the post office collecting it. So I put the little red and white card aside and waited until yesterday to collect it.
They handed me the white envelope and I signed for it. I didn't want to take it. I wanted to mark it return to sender and tell them that they had it all wrong.
So I have them both now. One certificate is full of hope and joy and of life. If you didn't know the second part of the story you would read the birth certificate and smile - a little girl, a sister, the daughter of Rachael the designer and of Steve the engineer. Born on September 11 2008.
But I know there is a second certificate. The one that is full of sadness and loss and tears. A little girl, never married, no occupation, lived in the one place all her life, a little sister, the second daughter of Rachael and Steve. Died on September 12 2008.
There in black and white. In indelible ink.