An exercise in grief and hope.

To my Lily, on her 9th birthday… 

All those years ago, I dreamed up your first birthday party (the literal birth-day one). I brought candles and balloons and cupcakes to the hospital ready to celebrate a long life of loving you and seeing you grow. I think about that day and all of its unexpected surprises in great detail and great sorrow every year on this day, the 19th of March. 

But this year, Lil, instead of remembering that first one, I’m imagining instead the one that we would throw you today. I’m imagining all of the thousand and one ways we would celebrate you and cherish you and joyfully welcome what’s next for you. 

I’m painting a picture in my mind and with my words as an exercise in grief and gratitude and prophetic celebration that can pierce through my sorrow today. 

So, here it is, little one. On this, your 9th birthday, we would go over-the-top for you (this is my M.O. anyways. I am the queen of birthday shenanigans and customizing and creating celebrations is my love language). So, here’s what I think over-the-top would look like for you: 

You’d wake up to a crepe-papered and balloon-decorated bedroom and hallway. You’d come to the dining room table, and it would be set with the same setting as every birthday in our home: eggs, bacon, fruit salad, orange juice, a tall stack of birthday pancakes, and all of the fun toppings, each in their own little bowl… cherries, frosting, sprinkles, whipped cream, and syrup. Nine candles would sit at the top of the stack of pancakes and the “Happy Birthday” banner that we bring out at every birthday would be hung in the window. 

We’d sing to you and give you our presents and smother you in morning love. 

Then off you’d go to dance, where all the girls in our family go on Saturday mornings. You’d dance you heart out until it was time to come home and set up for the big party. As we’re setting up, it’s a given that Grandma, GG, and Uncle Andy and Amanda would stop over to see you and give you their birthday wishes and hugs. 

At night, we’d throw you the birthday party of your dreams. It would be a sleepover, for sure, because you’d want to follow in big sis’ steps and she just had one in February. Every detail of it would have been customized and chosen weeks in advance, every item on the menu co-designed with me as we looked together at Pinterest boards. We’d be the authors and creators of one heck of a celebration together. 

Your friends, your brother and sisters, and your puppies would spend the rest of the day and night celebrating you, and from the other side of the room… this I can assure you, and my tears are wetting my eyes even now as I write this, your dad & I would be watching it all - misty-eyed and filled with wonder and hope and love at the celebration of you and who you’re becoming. 

Nine years old, Lil. If you were here, we’d throw you one heck of a party. If you were here, oh, how tight I would wrap you in my arms today. We’d bear hug you as a family and make a Lily sandwich. 

All these years later, and my empty arms still ache, longing to wrap them around you. 

So, today, as I grieve and remember and hope and celebrate, I’m imagining most vividly you in our family’s embrace. 

And I pray, cosita de mi corazón, that today… your celebration will be all this and more in heaven, even better than it would be here with us en nuestro pedacito de la tierra. Today, we remember and honor your belonging to our family, even as you belong now to heaven. 

Besos y abrazos, bebe <3