On her day of birth

"Happy birthday"
does not describe
what I feel today.

"Missing you"
partially captures
what is in my heart.

"Not enough time"
expresses perfectly
what I really feel.

"Rest in peace"—
I know you will,
our perfect angel.

My thoughts keep cycling through my mind, as I think of what my brother and sister-in-law won't be doing today. They won't be watching Tabitha play with wrapping paper as Emily "helps" her unwrap the presents. They won't be seeing Tabitha attack a piece of cake with the unabashed joy of a one year old amazed at the opportunity of handling her own dessert. They won't be laughing as she smears cake all over her face. They won't be chuckling as they put her in the tub, the only resort when messiness of these levels have been achieved. They won't be snuggling on the couch as they watch their two daughters play fun sister games together. They won't be sighing as they resolve any disputes that undoubtedly would have arisen. They won't be holding their little girl close and breathing in her scent and feeling her heart beat against theirs.

And as I think of what won't be happening today, my heart breaks a little more as it did back in October.

I feel like I should end this post with something cheerful or upbeat to let you know that we are okay, and we know Tabitha is peacefully waiting for us in heaven pain-free and happy, but on days like today knowing that is not as much comfort as it is on other days.

Tabitha, thank you for gracing our family with your presence. We were blessed to know you, and I am grateful for every time I held you.


Cherish your family today. And every day. Not because you never know which day will be your last, but because they are what makes every day worth living, whether it's the family you were born into or the family you have chosen.


After looking at those pictures of Tabitha and being reminded of how happy she always was, I feel like I need to wipe my tears and try to end this post more cheerfully than I began it. Because it is for her, so I'll honor her memory.

I can imagine what her parents might actually end up doing today. I imagine they'll play with Emily and cherish their time with their beautiful eldest daughter. They may think of the wonderful new baby that is growing inside of Rachel. They may visit the graveside, or they may save that for a different day. I hope they get to enjoy warm spring weather and see flowers that will put smiles on their faces. I hope they remember what they felt this past Easter Sunday as they reflected over the promise of our Savior's resurrection. I hope they know how much their family loves them. I love you.



My sister-in-law just posted, too.

And here is a post from my sister.

And this one is more about Emily than Tabitha, but it's beautiful. It's from my sister-in-law's twin.