Happy Birthday

Today we celebrated our son, Dylan, who would have been three today. I don't know if they celebrate birthdays in Heaven. From what I understand, every day up there could be filled with balloons and firecrackers and puppies and cake. But for us, Dylan's birthday will always be a day I cherish.

Jason had the idea to have friends and family over, maybe have a short video and/or photo slides. He said he wanted to celebrate, rather than mourn. I agreed that it seemed better to focus happily on his birthdate than what would come later this month--the other date. The day that had so much trauma and fear surrounding it that the memory has permeated my body, all the way into my bones, and taken permanent residence. 

Planning a birthday celebration for your child who died is tricky. I didn't want to rememorialize him, but this wasn't just a barbeque, either. 

I wasn't going to have a cake because Dilly couldn't eat cake, but Colin said that we should have cupcakes, and I wanted him to have a vote. So, I went to the store and stood in front of an expanse of party supplies with characters Dylan liked, looking for cupcake decorations. I felt odd and slightly sad. Doing the regular kid decor thing didn't really make sense.

As we got closer to the day, the original ideas dwindled and disappeared from the agenda. No video. No special photo presentation, just the regular scroll of our photo library through the Apple TV. We decided that a balloon release would be just enough remembrance without altering the mood of the party. 

Truthfully, though, I was extremely anxious about the balloons and the tears that would invariably flow from me. I am not one to want to cry with 16 other people around. I didn't want anyone to see how much it still hurts now, nearly a year after we lost him.

I didn't have to, it turns out. 

God gave us rain. Hours worth. Complete with thunder and lightning, and spongy, oversaturated earth. Weather not suitable for balloon-releasing. I sort of smiled picturing a balloon being struck by lightning or beaten down by relentlessly large raindrops.

God gave me the perfect cupcake decorations, too--baking cups with monkeys on them, along with bananas and bright green banana leaves. Dylan's favorite animal. His favorite color. They were in my cupboard the whole time.

God triggered my tears at the perfect time--in the shower before the party. 

God gave us the perfect friends and family, too--ones who understood that our hearts needed their company in order to laugh, to be light, on a day that would otherwise make us so sad.