How do you celebrate a birthday for a person that you can no longer see?
There will be no carefully curated list of people who will share in your birthday. No beautiful invitations to send to friends and family. But there are those that will accept the unwritten invitation to share in your birthday and remember you. Those that miss you too. Those that grieve with us.
There will be no balloons and streamers hung. No theme will define your day. But I have made this hanger. It reminds me of you and it decorates your brother’s room.
You won’t unwrap a train set, or open your eyes to find your first bicycle. You won’t be spoiled by those that love you with earthly gifts. But I made you this prayer flag, as I have done in the past and will do each year. It is my gift to you and yours to me.
I won’t sing you happy birthday. There will be no chorus of hip, hip, hooray. But I wrote you this poem.
There won’t be two candles atop a cake. You won’t try to blow them out with your baby breath. But I will light a candle for you and others might too.
There won’t be a birthday party tomorrow as others might know it. But I feel your birthday to the very depths of my bones. A birthday is for letting someone know how much you love them. And I love you forever, my baby boy still.