It's February ~ Happy "sweet" sixteenth birthday my beloved daughter!

Not only is this month (6th) my deceased daughters birthday, but it is also the anniversary (14th) of the renal failure/stroke (2014). Time flies and often I wonder, "am I a quality/worthy person? Am I Teflon ~ stronger, wiser, calmer; more tenacious and forgiving? Do I thoroughly comprehend the nature of life? Do people actually 'see' me? Has my struggles been in vain?"

This month remains the month that I dread the most - emotionally. Intellectually, dual[ly], I've come to embrace more for it's regular delivery of added "enlightenment". And I don't use that term religiously (honestly, I avoid religious or political vernacular purposely - those are the thoughts too personal to share in such a forum  as it is never my will, my intent to convert or deconvert anyone from anything of  needed comfort or  traditional ideology. And I always appreciate courteous reciprocation ). As I was sharing...

For it is THIS month where I experience the most growth -- due to premature loses - in an offspring (a future) and in health vitality (present). It is in my quiet melancholy (I believe most parents will always long for a child they've lost). Pain, it is accurate, not only can build physical muscle, but the mental muscle develops as well. It is now, through over a decade of silent mourning have I come to terms with what is and what isn't. My child had life. And a healthy, loving one. She came knowing and "feeling" loved.  With this knowing[ness] is how she gracefully exited this world - suddenly and unexpectedly while in my arms, asleep from nursing at my breast. Publicly in front of her dad and brother. An enormous, a hauntingly devastating and unforgettable tragedy.

Health wise, my condition has taught me, really it has reminded me how precious life is. It can end in an instant. And the time that you have NOW, is the only time guaranteed (regardless of personal ideas or beliefs. Goodness or not. Pink or purple). No one is privileged exemption.

So having survived the worst loss imaginable, I was fully prepared to endure what awaited me down the line - renal failure, stroke. Yet on rare occasion, honestly, I do cry out, "that's enough!". Human...

Sighing! On this particular day (the 6th), we continue to celebrate in spite of. Friends and family quickly faded so it's just us and that's all who'll really understand the surreal journey. The courage required to keep going through adversity. Staying peaceful and positive and productive.

Yeah, we honor her date of birth similar to how most of the world may honor great leaders or messiahs. On this day (I'll be in the dialysis chair - not my normal day of treatment. Just have too much fluid buildup - which is a potential danger), we purchase or try to bake a cake (yeah, right). Purchase balloons and flowers. For gifts, we usually give our living kids something special on this day. Random acts of kindness is encouraged in her memory. Meditate or whatever you do to go deeply inward - quietly to self reflect, evaluate, cleanse, to heal.

When I see other sixteen year old girls, silently I may watch. Catch myself staring.  Hoping they are loved, they are supported, they are cherished; their overall existence, appreciated. I'm grateful for the ability to observe them for it privileges me something of a gauge on how my daughter would/could have been had she lived. The music and books she'd enjoy. The way she may have smiled, smelled, laughed; dressed, styled her hair. Her successes, challenges. Her quirks, peeves; her interest. The substance in friendships she'd acquire; the relationship she'd have with her older brother, younger sister; her dad.

The wondering continues, while the agonizing intensity of aches and breathlessness; difficulty swallowing, performing lessens, but never completely vanishes. The void, is always there. The longing remains. She'll never ever go to high school, finish college; get married, experience motherhood. A mothers arms remain empty, a fathers heart remains torn.

Amazing siblings left with confusion, lack of understanding the enormity of such a loss, but have lived with the observation of what love can do when life permanently rips something so priceless without warning.  Without justifiable fairness or reason. May they and others come near'r to human consciousness and authentic compassion. Contribute positively to the planet partially in her name.

Into my cocoon of solitude and gratitude and lamentations I go. May I emerge as a beautiful butterfly. May I wisely evolve. May I rise like a Phoenix!