Chocolate Cake

Today I wear mismatched socks.

I wear them this way intentionally, because this is the way she wore them.
These exact socks.
Tie dyed.
One bright pink.
One bright blue.

It made her happy to wear them this way and I want to be happy today.

Today is her birthday.

So today I wear these socks. And bake her a cake. And smile every time I look down at my feet.

Today she would have been 28.
I miss her.
We all miss her.
Our family is incomplete.
But tonight we’ll celebrate her.
We’ll gather around the table and the chocolate cake.
We’ll sing her the Happy Birthday Song- and hope or imagine or pretend, that somehow she feels it & feels us.

We’ll tell the grandchildren the stories that make them feel like they really knew their Auntie.
And we’ll tell each other the stories that make us feel she’s not far away.

I’m not going to run from the sad today, and I’m not going to chase the happy away either.
Today I’m going to feel, and remember, and celebrate Because She Was, and oh, because I still have these socks!