Twenty-nine on the 29th
As hard as I try to make it palatable
The magic is missing for me.
Ten birthday cakes I could not make …
She may be having heavenly tea
Alongside Angel food cake with berries
Small comfort this day.
I see her as she was in the old photos
I remember her Little Mermaid birthday cake
Her shy smile, or vivacious big grin
She never knew her true beauty
I remember her as she sang in church,
Slight hands cupped upward
I knew she was connecting to Heaven.
I miss her when the tulip tips poke through the soft April earth
She shared the gardener’s heart.
I miss her every Christmas,
Her CD brings me to tears
As (Hark) the Herald Angels sing to me her gift of Love.
I miss her when I see the three lovely ones
who never got to meet their precious auntie.
I miss the beauty and life she brought to the room by just being present.
And I always wonder?
And I think I will wonder that till the day I die.
But for this day
I choose again to remember her beauty
To remember her “gift of poverty”
Her ability to connect with those on the social edges
She loved life, and the author of it.
I choose to be grateful that I was blessed to have a daughter as lovely as her.