This afternoon is the day of our daughter Clara’s memorial service. We placed her headstone yesterday, and today we will all gather to remember and honor her. I am dreading this, because it seems so final, even more so than her cremation did. We have debated whether or not we will scatter her ashes at this memorial service, and the end decision is that we’re just not ready. I like having her ashes here, on the bookshelf by our bed, next to her picture, her footprints, and the statue that David bought for me on the day she was born.
Our daughter would be 11 weeks old today. She would be smiling, trying her hardest to flip from back to tummy, making sweet little noises and blowing bubbles at us. Maybe she would be fussy, cutting her first teeth and wanting to nurse around the clock, gearing up for a growth spurt. I wonder which of her sisters she would be most like. I know they would be in love with her, doting big sisters who adore her, because I’ve seen how excellent they are at taking care of their little cousins.
I would give anything for a chance to have our daughter alive today, right now, keeping me awake at 3 in the morning or fast asleep, curled into her daddy’s arm. I would give anything to have seen the sparkle in her eyes, so that I could hold that in my heart forever.
Please think of us — myself, David, Lakin, Addah and Clara — this afternoon. Honor her by remembering that she was here and that she touched our lives in amazing ways. Light a candle, whisper a prayer, think a loving thought, and hug your children and loved ones closer today.