I’ve been “off” this week, restless, have the feeling that something isn’t “ right”, but can’t put my finger on it. Today, I figured out what was causing me to feel this way. In a mere 5 days, it will be Courtney’s birthday. She would be 32 years old.

I spent a lot of time thinking about her. I loved her little fuzzy cue ball head. She had a way of communicating with a language of her own. I was told I would be miserable being pregnant through the hot summer months of July and August. Instead, I loved being pregnant and the heat did not bother me. I went into labor several weeks early and was by myself. My then-husband was out of state on business. Courtney was born perfectly healthy. She was the center of my life and my joy to the ends of the earth.

All of my joy and peace ended 9 months later when she died in an in-home day care accident. Instead of celebrating her 32nd birthday with her, I will celebrate her birth in a different way. I will look at her photo album that my sister made for me. I will visit her grave. I will talk to her. I will talk about her.

I have a vision in my head of what she looks like now. I also picture her with my other loved ones that have gone before me, my sister, both parents and especially my beloved son who passed away by suicide in 2018. Although the waves of grief are less intense, I still miss her. I still love her. Sometimes, I still get sad.

God must have known I needed a little pick-me-up. My doorbell rang and it was the two neighbor girls from down the street. They were out and about in the neighborhood with their dog, umbrellas in hand due to the light rain and looking for something to eat. They were pretending to be poor and begging for food. They were too cute so I couldn’t refuse them. I served them peaches and ice cream which they ate as if they hadn’t eaten in days! They were full of energy, explored my home, found my cat, and asked a ton of questions. Questions of curiosity and wonder as kids do at 7 and 8 years old.

I could have said no at the door and sent them on their way. However, even as I answered the door, I knew they would lift my spirits. I love their wonderment and enthusiasm. As I remember, Jesus loved the children and to be like them is what I am supposed to do. I had peaches and ice cream with them, played with their dog and entertained them. Once their bellies were full and they promised to come back, they headed home.

After they left, I felt much better. I was no longer feeling out-of-sorts. Rather, I felt alive, happy, and present, in the moment. I was grateful for my other girls, whom I get to see and talk to in their humanly form.

The pain has lessened over the past 31 years. I know the sadness and grief can surface at any time. I have worked through them. I have survived her passing and my son’s death as well. There will be a day that I will be with them again. While I am in no hurry to join them, I am assured it will be a beautiful reunion.

Happy Birthday Courtney!

I love you.






Share This :

Search by Category