A little over two weeks ago it was your birthday, again. Your third birthday among the stars. And we celebrated you the way we always do, by sending a balloon to you with our messages and lighting your birthday candle for some time afterward. This year our balloon temporarily became stuck inside a tree…which was a surprising turn of events… but in the end it all worked out and somehow as soon as we gave up and looked away it found its way out and on the way up to you! It made me laugh to think that all we had to do was look away after spending 10-15 minutes staring up at that big tree, willing your balloon to move without any luck. And while we would’ve loved to watch that balloon go up, up, up all the way to you- we know that sometimes things just go the way they are going to and this seemed to be the way this Birthday was supposed to go! It’s not always easy but we are learning to lean into moments like these that don’t work out quite as we had planned.
Three years. Three years to me feels like both a lifetime ago and yesterday all at once. How it’s been three years since we met you and said goodbye, I don’t understand. Our world was turned completely upside down three years ago and it seems almost unreal now that we are here, today. It’s becoming more difficult to imagine who you would be now… our three year old little girl. It’s more difficult to imagine what you would look like… what your personality would be. The gravity of our loss continues to impact us, but our life is in such a different place now than it was three years ago. Your Daddy and I are standing on solid ground once again with our loss and you weaved delicately into every fiber that makes us who we are. Every fiber that our family is built on and continues to build on, you are weaved within. While our family evolves and time heals some of our pain, your presence in our life remains.
I can still feel you in the warm sun on my skin and see you in the flowers that grow. I hear you in the wind chimes and birds chirping in the trees above. Although your new garden has yet to be planted, the Texas wildflowers have been in bloom for some time now and when I see them speckling the sides of the roads as I’m driving along I always smile and think of you. I always feel you near. The small bright pink flowers that seem to return each year in the pot next to your garden after completely dying off in the winter remind me that even when something is not physically visible here on Earth, it is still with us, just in a different way. Just like you.
On your third birthday, we wrote our messages and helped Benji and Daisy create messages of their own. We went to our usual spot in front of the house and set up a camera to take our photos and video. And while we were taking our photos a kind neighbor stopped his car to help us. He congratulated us at first, seeing the pink balloon. But he must’ve noticed the messages as he then asked what this was for. As we explained to him how we lost you and celebrate you every year, a familiar look came over his face. He shared that he, too, lost a daughter over 40 years ago. He shared that this type of loss never leaves a parent, something I am coming to realize to be true.
Sometimes the universe sends us little messages. I can’t help but wonder if this neighbor was placed there at the right time so that we could share a common connection and know that we are less alone in this world than it seems.
Once we realized your balloon had left the tree without us looking your Daddy and I laughed a little and we went inside for dinner. Before our night became business as usual with your little brother, we lit your birthday candle and had a moment, just the four of us, as a family. A moment I look forward to all year long.
We love you, Amelia, and look forward to seeing how you will weave into the fibers of this family for years to come. Happy Birthday!
Love, Mommy
Amelia's Floral Footprints 