When Bailey died we realised that we had lost a unique little boy. Even the medical staff, who had worked with him and fought so hard to keep him with us, remarked that he was a very special little boy, the like of which they just don't see.

Michelle and I wanted to do something for Bailey which would reflect his uniqueness, and so were unable to settle for an ordinary headstone, which would make his grave indistinguishable from that of an adult from any distance. We wanted to mark his grave with a stone that would stand out among those around it. After some searching of websites and travelling round various monumental sculptors local to us we found the stone we wanted, and a stone which satisfied the criteria we had set for ourselves. We knew that this would be one of our last chances to do something lasting for our son and with this in mind we made sure that we got this right. The stone we chose is a black granite, polished to a high shine, the field for the legend being oval. To the left side is a bear, standing and peeping around the stone at top left, with his front paws holding the stone to the top and left of the stone. The bear is roughly cut from the same piece of stone and the roughness of the cutting gives the impression of grey fur, contrasting well with the main body of the stone. The bear has polished eyes and nose. When we ordered the headstone we were told that it would have to be imported from quarries in either China or India, dependant on the colour of stone we chose, and that this distance would factor in a significant time delay between the order and the erection of the finished memorial. We weren't to be shaken though because we had set our hearts on this particular stone and because we knew that there would be months before the stone was ready we would just have to be patient, because the end result would make up for any waiting time. Our monumental mason has now erected Bailey's headstone on the grave. Michelle visited the grave yesterday in the early afternoon, and was bitterly disappointed to find that no work had been started after earlier promises that the memorial would be in place that day. In the evening we took part in a quiz in the village's church hall and this ended around 9:30 pm. In the darkness and coastal dampness of the night we decided to visit the grave once more to check that there had been no further movement, before we wrote to complain to the mason today. Even the beginning of the foundation for the headstone would have placated us and made us be patient once more. Pulling into the cemetery in the pitch darkness, with only our headlights to illuminate the graveyard we struggled to see our boy's plot. I stopped the car and got out and then I could see a shape above where the grave is. I was stunned to make out the shape of the bears ears as the bear clings to the side of the stone. I called to Michelle and Courtney that the stone was up and looked (in the dark) finished. After peering through the dakness at the stone, with only the light from our mobile phones to see by, I returned to the car and brought it round so that the headlights would light it up and let us see. We stood in amazement as we looked for the first time at the stone we had waited for so long to see that would mark the grave of our dear, unique and brave son. Naturally, there were tears, but as well as the tears being full of grief, there was also a healthy mixture of pride in knowing that we had done the right thing to wait for something very special for our boy, and also much relief that the wait was over. Michelle called her sister and a couple of good friends to let them know that the headstone was in place, and within a short time there was a little crowd at Bailey's grave side. As we stood in the darkness admiring the headstone, Michelle, Courtney, and I, each saw a shooting star racing across the sky. Three shooting stars within a period of five minutes or so! We returned to the cemetery this morning get a better view in the daylight and to us the stone is perfect, exactly what we wanted. We now have our son's uniqueness mirrored in the stone which marks his grave.