August 18, 2010 - I Wonder If There are Birthdays in Heaven?

If things were different, I would be calling you today. I would put Georgia on the phone to see what she would babble to you. If things were different, I would have mailed you a card that was signed "Love, Georgia." If things were different, I would have put a crayon in Georgia's chubby little hand, and while she would try hard to eat it, I would put my hand over hers and coax it to scribble a little something on that card just below the "Love, Georgia." If things were different, I might have sent you a new framed picture, wrapped in colorful paper, a picture of this smile.

How many times have I wondered if only things were different. How many times have I wondered how different this little girl's life would have been. And no, not only for the amount of toys that would fill her bedroom (although I know they'd be many). But for the love I would see in her eyes every time her "Oma" came to visit, or the lessons you would teach her about life and cooking and patience and understanding, or the excitement she would show every time we headed home for a holiday at your house.

I still look for you in her eyes, a lot.

I still surround her with butterflies. I don't know why, I just can't stop. They're in her room, on the clothes I buy her. I'll even only buy the paper towels at the grocery store with the butterfly print on them. I know, it's silly, but I can't picture you without your butterfly necklace, and I remember what you said to me about butterflies during my last trip home before you left.

I would give almost anything to watch you enjoy more of this life and to watch you hold my little girl and smile. To watch you laugh at her comical faces and zany moves. The way she dances to the music of her little toys or squirms to avoid having a diaper or clothes put on. Yeah mom, she's just like me in that regard. And I don't put shoes on her either. I wish you were here to tell me all the other ways she's like me, the things I did at 10 months old. Did I crawl like she does? Did I wave my hand at the wrist in the funny little way that she does? Did I scream just to hear myself do it and then laugh like she does? Did I give sweet hugs and open-mouthed kisses like she does? How I wish I could have one day to ask all these things.

But I do know one thing. All those things I wish you were still here to teach Georgia and to pass on to her, I know at one point you taught me those things. Each one is in me, and I will make sure each one becomes part of her. You will never truly be gone because part of you lives on in the four souls you put on this earth, and I will make sure there is a fifth soul that will carry on bits of you - even if she never met you.

I wonder if there are birthdays in heaven? If there are, happy birthday mom. It would have been a great 53rd year. I love you, and that love shines in your granddaughter's eyes every day. I'll always remember that you taught me and gave me that love that I now give to her.