She would have been five years old today
She would have walked into the kitchen this morning with her sleep-tousled hair, rubbing her eyes as she mumbled, "....'morning mommy". I would have let her climb onto my lap, smoothed down her hair and kissed her as I wished her a happy birthday, "You're 5 years old now! A whole hand!"
After a cuddle, she would have asked for some breakfast. As she sat at the table munching cheerios, I would have talked to her about her birthday, what kind of cake I was making, and when she could open her presents. As she chatted and chomped through breakfast, I probably would have marveled at how quickly the time had passed, "How can she possibly be five years old already!? Such a big girl!"
As I baked her cake she would likely have twirled around the house in something pink and fluffy from her pile of dress-up clothes, asking when she could open presents. I would have brushed her hair and put it in pigtails or braids, then I would have held her little hand as I walked her to preschool, thinking about how I would soon be walking her to kindergarten in the Fall.
One year and 13 days from now, my morning will look just like this. It's the strangest feeling to think of how it would have been, and then a year later it all comes together in the way it is. I would give almost anything to have Abby back, but then Charlotte would never have been born. How could I possibly wish her away so that I could have Abby? And how could I ever be grateful that Abby is gone because we have Charlotte? Neither is possible. What was, what would have been, and what is.....it's all a big sticky mess that I carry with me forever. And I'm grateful for it all.
After a cuddle, she would have asked for some breakfast. As she sat at the table munching cheerios, I would have talked to her about her birthday, what kind of cake I was making, and when she could open her presents. As she chatted and chomped through breakfast, I probably would have marveled at how quickly the time had passed, "How can she possibly be five years old already!? Such a big girl!"
As I baked her cake she would likely have twirled around the house in something pink and fluffy from her pile of dress-up clothes, asking when she could open presents. I would have brushed her hair and put it in pigtails or braids, then I would have held her little hand as I walked her to preschool, thinking about how I would soon be walking her to kindergarten in the Fall.
One year and 13 days from now, my morning will look just like this. It's the strangest feeling to think of how it would have been, and then a year later it all comes together in the way it is. I would give almost anything to have Abby back, but then Charlotte would never have been born. How could I possibly wish her away so that I could have Abby? And how could I ever be grateful that Abby is gone because we have Charlotte? Neither is possible. What was, what would have been, and what is.....it's all a big sticky mess that I carry with me forever. And I'm grateful for it all.