The fourth of March has been an important day for me for many years. It is a happy day and it is a sad day.
First, happy. March 4th is my girl J’s birthday, and yesterday she celebrated the big 3-0.
I stayed up until midnight so I could make sure to wish her a “Happy Day” the moment that it became March 4th. That’s the very least I could do, as this girl deserves so much.
The most special part of J’s birthday, for me, was the outpouring of love that I got to see her receive. She did not just receive the perfunctory “HBD”; People took time to write long and heartfelt notes about what a good human being she is; How she is more giving and loving and positive and warm than anyone else in the world. I am her #1 fan.
Yesterday was also a sad day for my family. It was the 8 year anniversary of when we lost my beloved Uncle. My daughter is named for him, and my son is like a mini version of him; but we still miss him very much.
I was trying to think of how to honor him, yesterday.
My daughter had a late opening at school, so I had to juggle the baby’s nap and driving her in. I let them both get into my bed to snuggle up and at one point I had my son, his head on my shoulder, sleeping soundly on my left side and my daughter, cuddled up on to me, silently, on my right, and I thought, “This is it. This is how I honor him.”
When I picked her up from school at the end of the day, I looked behind me and saw this:
On March 4th every year, I have the unique opportunity to mourn the past and celebrate the future.
But from now on, instead of highs and lows, I will just honor the day with love,
for that is what my J
and my Uncle
and our family members (those by blood and those by choice)
And nothing less.