So you’re six years old today.
When I thought of you on the eve of your birthday, I was certain that I had to be miscalculating your age. There’s no way that it was six years ago that we were last together. I resorted to slowly counting a finger for each year that has passed as I laid in the dark next to your little brother while he slept.
It has been six years.
I guess in my mind, you will forever be that teenie tiny baby girl who weighed just under a pound and could fit in the palm of my hand. My little angel. My Lindsey.
It has commonly been said that time heals all wounds. I’m not sure that is true. I believe that time quietly, gently lulls us into a place of acceptance. Losing you will always be the wound that forever bleeds in my heart. No one can see it. No one can tell that I still feel the pain. I look healed and strong so to them, I must be. You and I know otherwise though.
But let’s keep the focus on today. Your day. I smile when I think how you would be starting the first grade in a few days. Who would have been more excited you or I? What kind of backpack would you have selected? Something with a Disney character or would our mission be to make sure that all of the colors in it matched your first day outfit and your mani-pedi? Would your preference have been to wear a skirt and top, or a dress, or jeans and a funky t-shirt? Even though you may have wanted your hair washed, set, and blow dried at the salon, my preference would have been for you to have cornrows with some kind of intricate design. It would have perfectly complemented your skin, which was the most beautiful that I have ever seen. It was chocolate brown with a warm reddish hue. I remember thinking after you were born how much your skin reminded me of rich mahogany wood. It was gorgeous. I’ve seen nothing like it since.
After a day like today, when your brother zipped around in a manic-like state, I wonder would you have been the calm and he the storm in our little family. Or would you have been partners in the mayhem? Either way, I would have adored you the same way I adore him. My daughter and son. God’s greatest gifts to me.
As much as I would give anything to have you here, I take comfort in knowing that you never had the chance to experience or witness the ugliness of the world. Your eyes have never seen violence. Your brain has never had to process racism. Your spirit has never had to combat the echos of someone insisting that you can’t. Never have your ears heard a single unkind word. All you have ever known is me cocooning you between my shoulder and chest as I promised to always love you. In the quiet of our hospital room, in our bed, it was the Lord’s prayer that I whispered into your ear as he called you home. How beautiful of an existence is that?
You had heaven right here on earth.
You were my heaven right here on earth.
Your sweet face will forever live in my mind’s eye. My soul will always be connected to yours. Until we see each other again, may in the arms of the Lord you always stay.
Happy birthday baby girl.