I am always yours

I was quite decided this time. I wasn't going to make a silly slideshow and I wasn't going to cry. This is the 9th time I've celebrated Heather's birthday without her, surely by now I know how to stay strong. Surely by now I should be "over it" or something. I have 4 beautiful kids noising up my house and another one punching me in the ribs, I have more joy than so many ever get to experience, more than I can contain or describe. So this time I would simply acknowledge the date, have a cake or something, dwell on the beautiful memories and on all I have.

We are without a working van at the moment, so I've been stuck in the house for 2 weeks now. I've figured out how to stay pretty busy indoors. So yesterday, we gutted the basement, I cooked a lunch and cleaned it up, I got some projects done (which I plan to talk about on here in a future post - it's my latest obsession), I got organic fertilizer put down on my garden..and then it was 7.45 pm and there was nothing left to do. I wasn't thinking about the next day, and I didn't cry at first. I just started leaking. From my eyes. Without my consent. What on earth was this about? Why were my cheeks so wet. Oh, yeah. That.

So I faced it. I surrendered to it. My body knows it's been 9 years, my soul knows it, even when my mind doesn't want to admit it or confront it. I walked to the calendar, looked at the date and just sobbed and wept from this pocket of emotion inside that I didn't even know was in there. But I punctured it and it came oozing out.

I miss her. Today is a happy day, the day she was born. It was an amazing, beautiful day. I remember many parts of it clearly, some are fuzzy. It was an incredible day. And I miss her. I wish I could have been stressing about staying up late to wrap presents and hang streamers, and wondering if she'd like all the things I got her. I wish I could see what she'd look like as a 9 year old. I'm at peace with my story and with where we are in life and where we're headed. But the fact that's she's gone still sucks. And there's no point in me pretending otherwise, because, well I'm just no good at faking it I guess. And that's ok. I love her, she's my baby, I'm her mother. And it hurts to not celebrate today with her. I'll still celebrate her birth and her life, and I'll grieve that she's gone.

While I contemplated all this, a Switchfoot song came on my playlist. And every word spoke exactly how I felt. So I had to make a silly slideshow. This one isn't all upbeat, it isn't preachy with a moral at the end. It's just real, and it's an expression of how I feel today.

Happy Birthday, Peach.

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