8 years old today, my precious child is 8 today. Someone once told me that we age in heaven, I honestly don’t know how that is, and I think it’s a way for our limited human brains to conceptualize a place that is inconceptual (I literally just made that word up, good luck saying it out loud).
After the fantastic tea party, we had an epic play date of 5 kids (who somehow ended up in the hot tub with their tea party dresses on) and a wild sleepover.
I awoke this morning to the feeling of my husband’s cold hands stroking my hair, softly easing me back to consciousness and, knowing the reality that awaited me today, awoke me to the realization that Amelie’s birthday has arrived. The kids were singing, dancing, jumping, ecsatic just to be together. “I’m not cooking today, not. one. single. meal!” I boldly declared. (We’ve been trying to save money since retirement by not eating out so much, and man it’s hard work to cook every meal. I didn’t want any work today). So we grabbed takeout of pancakes and crispy bacon, always an Amelie favorite, and had a lovely little picnic at Paradise Point Hotel, on the deck on the water and fed the ducks. It was a blisteringly windy day, sunny and bright, the massively tall and thick palm trees that surrounded the pond were wild and noisey, dropping palm branches all around us, and an army of ducks (and three annoying seagulls) joined us. The kids ran and laughed and squealed. Surprisingly, I was not as sad as I expected to be, mainly because it’s pretty hard to be morose when those children so effortlessly talk of Amelie, almost as if she were to arrive at any moment to join the fun, and their enthusiasm is infectious.
Then it was off to violin lesson, then dinner with Auntie Schimel, a celebratory ice cream, then magically more dessert (one can never have enough dessert on a special occasion, I always say, I may have had even more later)….
When cuddling in bed tonight, Bravery said, “the peak of my day was feeding the ducks, because I remember going with Amelie and I was happy.” Boss and I held each other in tears, and, when finished, did not speak of it any more. The evening came to a close on the couch, lightly laughing at a movie, ignoring, just for this brief respite, the ache in our hearts.
It truly was one fine day.
Happy Birthday, Amelie Fira.