An Angel's First Birthday

Our "Day of Grace"...

I took the day off from work and we headed to the cemetery with our day planned - flowers, picnic, reflecting, etc.  We started the day off a little rocky - Grace decided to play a trick on us.  A month ago or so, I spent a good deal of time picking out the perfect Mylar balloons for Grace.  I had a beautiful huge butterfly and a cute pink first birthday balloon.  Got them filled with helium Thursday morning - while trying to avoid the small talk with the woman helping me at the dollar store. "Is it your daughter's birthday?" "Yup."  Enough said, she's not in the "inner circle" - and headed home to pack the car.  I didn't get a weight on the balloons because we were planning to tie them to a vase at Grace's place.  Darn, with hindsight I would have gotten the weight.  

I went inside to finish packing the picnic basket, didn't think to tell Brad "hey the balloons don't have a weight".  He opens the hatch of our SUV (balloons were near the front), walks away (on a windy morning), turns back to put some gardening stuff in the car...and sure enough, those beautiful, planned out balloons were making their ascension to heaven.  It sounds very symbolic with hindsight, but in the moment I was so absolutely devastated.  Is it not enough that my daughter is dead?  That we're celebrating our dead daughter's birthday?  Now the balloons, one of the very few things I can do for her, are gone as well.  And I didn't even get to see the lovely things floating up gracefully to the clouds - Brad and Gavin witnessed the whole thing and then Brad was mortified to have to come inside to tell me.  

I lost it, nearly had an anxiety attack...over balloons.  But they symbolize so much more than just some Mylar material with helium inside.  They were my gift to Grace.  Gavin was devastated, bawling hysterically that the balloons had gone up to heaven.  That "we need to grow really big to reach them" and "we need a really big ladder to get them, can we get them?"  Repeated, over and over again with tears streaming down his cheeks.  And then he was confused because he knew that we were bringing them to Grace at the cemetery, but then realized that they were going to Grace up in heaven.  He started to talk as if there were two Grace's and it was the first time I realized that our little three year old was confused about death, even though we talk about it a lot in our house - that our bodies remain in the ground (where people can come to visit and remember us), but our souls go up to heaven.  It made for a good opportunity to reiterate the difference between body and soul.

Now that I look back on it, I REALLY do think and believe that Grace wanted those balloons.  I think she sent that gust of wind.  I picture her up there, toddling around (Gavin took his first steps a week before he turned one) holding onto those balloons, giggling and admiring them.  

So, when I collected myself after my devastation, we made our way to the cemetery (balloon-less) - thank goodness my very good friend Elizabeth had made it there before us to decorate...and what did she bring?  Well, a butterfly balloon of course!  And we went later in the day to get another one, mainly because Gavin was really looking forward to bringing it to his sister.  Gosh, that Elizabeth.  She brought all kinds of decorations - and she always has just the perfect card and things to say.  I love that girl, like the sister I never had!  I think she missed her calling as a Hallmark writer or crisis counselor or something...she's been such a rock for me the past year+.

Okay, Erica, five paragraphs about the balloons, would you move on already?  Okay...

What a beautiful day it was!  Sunny, with a nice breeze (well gusty at times, but it made the hot sunshine more tolerable).  We had a lovely time planting flowers from friends and family who wanted to contribute to Grace's garden.  Again, there are very few things we can do for Grace.  The three-ish foot diameter area around her tree is the one place we can be creative and show our love.  We'd been planning the layout since last year, knowing that we'd want to make a tradition of planting and caring for flowers for Grace each year.  And since her birthday is in the spring, it is the perfect time for planting flowers, something I really enjoy doing, particularly with my daughter by my side (in spirit).

I couldn't help but think back to a year ago while I watched Gavin fill the flower beds with dirt.  At Grace's burial, he stood there with a shovel bigger than him placing scoops of dirt over his sister's casket - I had a flashback, one that is extremely difficult to live with.

We packed a yummy picnic lunch complete with birthday cupcakes.  My parents and Elizabeth joined us for planting and eating.  And the three of us stayed a bit longer, reflecting...

We decided to spend the rest of the afternoon/evening in Grand Haven strolling the boardwalk and pier (avoiding the very cold Lake Michigan water that I'm sure Gavin would have waded in without even realizing it was 57 degrees).  We visited a great playground.  And had dinner overlooking the channel.  It was low key and very nice, given the unique circumstances of this particular birthday.  We passed other families along the way...some with a little boy and a little girl.  It makes me choke up a bit.  I just pray that these families realize what a blessing they have.  It's easy to take it all for granted.  I'd give anything just to have even one day a year, one hour none-the-less, that we're all together...just a day...just an hour...and these other families get EVERY day and EVERY hour together.  I suppose you don't know what you have until it is gone.

We came back to GR, dropped off the replacement balloon (oops, I'm talking about the balloons again), said goodnight to our birthday angel and headed home...the three of us.  I logged on to Facebook and email to find so many messages of love and encouragement.  Thank you to each of you who where thinking of us.  And to those who sent a card - each and every one was so very beautiful - or even a gift, so thoughtful.  And I suppose I even thank those of you who said not a word to us (or maybe even purposefully avoided us) - I know that some of you find it very difficult to find the right words, or maybe you didn't even know it was Grace's birthday (I forget that others haven't been counting down the days like I have, reliving every moment from a year ago).  I know it's challenging to know what to say in such an awkward situation.  Or maybe you think since it's been a year we're "over" it.  We must be.  Maybe you'll find the words someday.  

We'll wrap up the birthday weekend reflecting with a mass for Grace at our parish's Saturday evening mass.  The last time her name was said at mass was the weekend following her death - a petition for those in the parish who had died that week.  It was at that mass that we sang "You Were Mine", I lost it and still do whenever I hear that hymn.  And I imagine they may play Amazing Grace this weekend, given the Memorial Day holiday.  I'll be thinking of nothing but my little angel.

So, happy birthday my dear.  I love you to the moon and back...