Dear Pauline,

THOUGH we never met, I grew up feeling that I knew you. Of course this was not physically possible, as you died four years before I was born — but the short eight months you were on this earth was long enough to make an everlasting loving memory in our family.

Your name was mentioned regularly, and Mam always said you were the only one of her girls that actually looked like her, with your silky blonde hair and china blue eyes.

The strange thing was that the first children Mam and Dad had were twins, a boy and a girl six years before you were born. The girl was very dark and the boy was very fair with the same blue eyes — but unfortunately he died when he was only eight days old. The other three of us had black hair and hazel eyes, very like our Dad.

They always said you were the most placid baby ever, with a beautiful smile (unlike you I constantly bawled for my first year). Mum would put you sitting in your pram outside our little shop door where all the customers would talk to you on their way in to shop. Had you lived, Pauline, you would have grown up in a very loving family.

Our parents were wonderful people who loved each other and us, and always let us know how proud they were of us. They made a very handsome couple.

Dad was creative and witty and probably the first house husband of his time as he spent more time in the kitchen looking after us than he did in the business.

He made amazing apple tarts and scones and his Sunday roast was legend and he was known to extend an invitation to any poor soul that he deemed in need of a good feed.

Mam was a proud and intelligent business woman with a huge heart. Her kindness to the customers still lives in the hearts of many long after her passing.

Losing you so young and so suddenly must have had a huge impact on our parents. Convulsions took so many young babies in those days, but your death seemed to be so unnecessary.

Poor Dad phoned the doctor four times, pleading with him to come quickly as you were very ill. Unfortunately he never arrived, so Dad called a local taxi to bring you to Temple Street Hospital. Sadly you just lay limp in his arms and you drew your last breath as they passed the church in Chapelizod on the way into Dublin.

Over the years as the bus passed this spot I always thought of you and of just how sad it must have been for our distraught Dad to see and feel the life fading out of his little girl.

Today, unlike our little brother who is interred in the Angels plot in Glasnevin, your little white coffin is snuggled between both our parents in our local graveyard. But I always liked to think that two blonde blue-eyed angels were waiting to greet them when they passed into Heaven.

I wanted to write this letter to you Pauline and put it into the grave when it was opened for each of our parents — but sadly I never got around to it.

Growing up we always believed that our Angel Guardian was walking by our sides. For me Pauline that Angel was you. I imagined you prompting me to tell the truth, never risking the lie. Holding my hand crossing busy roads. Alerting me to danger and constantly looking out for me. For this I am truly thankful to you Pauline my Angel Sister.

I know had you lived we would have had so much fun and all four siblings would have loved each other very much. I also believe the day will come when we will meet for the first time but until then, I am sending you the warmest thanks and biggest hug ever.

Your loving sister Marian Brennan, Dunboyne, Co Meath