They say it's your birthday...
You'd be one year old today. First birthdays are the most special you know. It's the only one where I'd have let you have the cake. Yep, the whole thing, to eat, fling, wear, and destroy at will. Of course, the price for that would have been the multitude of pictures I'd have taken and blackmailed you with later, when you had your first 'real' girlfriend. You know, like I planned to do with that picture of you after your bath that day just before your surgery. But there will be no pictures of you covered in cake with icing up your nose, and that picture of you naked after your bath got cropped and added to your obituary.
So instead of having your party, we're visiting CVRU. There will be cake and toys, but not so much celebrating. And probably no one will be wearing icing, though, knowing some of those nurses, ya just never know! I might end up with blackmail pictures after all. I just hope I don't burn the cake. Guess you never had the chance to find out what a lousy baker I am.
Gretchen sent flowers yesterday. She's the one with the daughter I wanted you to marry. She's even more gorgeous now than she was when we arranged that marriage. She's so pretty it hurts. The flowers were beautiful too. She said she saw them, they're all purple, and thought "purple, celestial - Nova" and sent them. That's the kind of thing you did kiddo. There was just something special about you that allowed you to touch people despite any boundaries. You prevailed in spirit where your body failed - and continue to do just that.
Last night we went downtown and watched them light the tree in the square. I've never done that before. I wasn't all that impressed, but then I'm having a hard time getting into the spirit. I just keep picturing you... I'm sure you'd have been all in the tree this year, knocking off the balls, trying to eat baby Jesus from the creche on the table, throwing fits when I said no. You were pretty strong willed, but I'm pretty sure I'd have won...
Speaking of strong willed: Terra still thinks you're at the hospital you know? I've tried to explain it to her, but she just can't understand 'dead' yet. All she knows is that she wants her "Dophalin" back, and she doesn't do very well with the word no. She can't figure out why she can't have you. Me either to tell the truth.
Daddy and I, and all your brothers and sisters too, are still trying to get used to you being gone. I still have to remind myself every day that the kids don't have to be quiet in the hall anymore. My heart just can't grasp it enough to convince my brain once and for all. That's the thing about death, it's so final that we aren't equipped to comprehend it. I just miss you so much, I feel lost.
But I'm trying to use the things I learned through you to find my way - to make a difference and do the things I should. I think I'm succeeding, most of the time. I just hope I'm doing things that would make you happy, that you could be proud of. But sometimes, like right now, I still just wish that I could have you back.
Happy birthday baby, I love you as much today as I ever did... and always will.