Hi Josh,
I guess, in reality, this day is no different from all the other days I write to you, except that it is. Today is your 21st birthday, or, it would have been had you still been alive. That's a pretty momentous occasion in my book.
The universe went out of it's way to make me smile today, on what is traditionally a very difficult day for me.
The first thing I saw this morning when I went outside was this...
...for some reason those goofy daffodil faces make me grin. This is the first year we've had white petals with orange "faces." I don't know why I think of them as silly little floral faces with tongues sticking out in mock jest, but I do. Last year they were yellow. Who knows, maybe we still have more yellow daff's to bloom yet? Today was the first day they bloomed wide open too! How's that for irony? Normally they don't open up until the second week or so, in May. I'm glad for the reminder of new life and God's promise to us.
I think the tulips know I love them best, yet they tease me. They're lazy and want me to anticipate the blossoming of their velvety pink, purple, and mauve blooms. They play coy, however, they aren't fooling me...I know they are total show-offs!
As I walked through the garden on the morn of what is such a sad reminder of the life we lost, your life - still in it's own pre-bloom stages- I was constantly reminded of the life around me...the vibrant colourful life.
The forsythia screams bright yellow shoots at me, despite my yearly efforts to kill it and completely cut it back!
Even as I walk through the garden and revel in all the vivid new life around me, I mourn the loss of my precious 2 year old with the deep brown eyes and adorable smile. I mourn the loss of the life you had and the one that you never got to enjoy. I still find myself playing the "what if" game. I often daydream about your adventures as a boy and then a young man and wonder what your future would look like had it not been stolen from you.
I still miss you... with every cell of my being I miss you. I will miss you until the last breath leaves my body. I still ache in the deepest recesses of my heart. I will bear that pain and those scars until I close my eyes one final time. I still weep cold, bitter tears when I think of you lying beneath the hard, dark ground. I will still cry those tears until my body is stilled forever more.
Yet something this year has changed. Underneath the hard shell of the pain, anguish and depression of what has been one of the worst years in my life since your death; as I was walking through the garden this morning I was flooded with the sense that as the tulips and daffodils renew themselves every year, so does my spirit and so does God's promise to me that through him my own life is renewed and saved, just as yours was. Yes, I still cry out in pain when I think of you, dead. But I know that you, the real you is in a place where there is no pain or anguish, only beauty, love and perpetual renewal.
Your cake is in the oven. This year it's vanilla bean cake with vanilla frosting with a hint of orange zest, in celebration of those silly little daffodils outside and most of all, in celebration of your life.
I miss you so very much, but I love you so very much more!
