She would’ve been 33 today. 5,226 later. Nearly 15 years gone by. And since the sun came up this morning (and that tiny puppy stirred) I’ve struggled to find the words for this day. Day 5,226 — her 33rd birthday.
I sprawled out on the floor with our puppies, lost in mindless thoughts of life...and death...and how we all got here, as time after time a beloved, torn up, no-longer stuffed piggie was raced back to me with an energy that only comes from sisters vying for the same tattered toy.
I scrolled through memories, all those words already said and posted and liked and commented on...looking for that whisper that was still out there to write. I thought about all the things she’s missed...just this year alone.
She has been in my dreams, and found in cool afternoon breezes. I’ve heard her voice, and felt her push. I see her daily in our friends and family who carry her torch — sometimes she pops up in an expression Stefanie throws, other times I catch her in the mirror. She’s never stopped laughing right alongside me, and when clothes go missing...to this day, I know it’s her.
From beach butterflies headed out to sea and The Monarch who calmly floated outside the day we brought Kimbee home, to the one I didn’t catch the color of as it flew haphazardly towards my face on a day last week that was particularly tear-filled and trying with our little adventurer Kenobi.