It was creeping up on me. I started to notice that things got to me faster, that my tears fell a lot harder than they should. The funk I found myself in wasn’t to be shaken off so easily.
The milestone that all kids look forward to. The one that changes things. The beginning of the years that bring the most changes, the most growing up. And she would never know them. I would never get to see her go through those changes. See her have her first boyfriend, her first kiss, her first dance. I won’t ever see her fall in love in Jesus.
Because she is with Jesus.
I know I shouldn’t ask for more. Because what more is there? She is living the dream that we all long for, but, really, deep in my heart, I long for her. I want to know who she is. I want to know what His purpose was in those too short four months. I want the big picture, because the little picture just hurts.
She didn’t get cake or balloons this year in her honor, and she should have. It was the first year we didn’t follow tradition. We talked about her a little…she was on my heart, is always on my heart. I held in the tears, the weeping that was going on in my heart was hidden from the world, but I felt it. I was being shredded inside because she just felt forgotten, but, the thing is, is that I won’t ever forget. I won’t forget her first kick, her first breath. The sounds she made when she was happy, the way she smelled. Sometimes I smell something that reminds me of her, and it comes flooding back. Everything. How she loved baths, the way her hair curled. How she loved to be carried outward, facing the world, not wanting to miss a thing. Like she knew. She knew she needed to get as much in as she could.
I don’t wish she never happened. Even if I knew the end of her story, I would’ve wanted to be a part of it. The overwhelming joy she created in my heart far outweighs the pain.
Happy Birthday, Chloe Michelle!