Happy Birthday Abby Girl
I have been crying the better part of the morning. This same thing happened last year.
I am so glad that Abby was born, that I know her story, and that her short life has touched so many people.
I am so glad that her incredible mother is a dear friend of mine.
What hurts is the ache for my hurting friend. Knowing I can't make it better. Knowing that it shouldn't truly be made better because the ache says it all.
I love this poem... not because I have ever been good at not weeping, but for some other unknown reason.
Do not stand at my grave and weep,I am not there, I do not sleep.I am in a thousand winds that blow,I am the softly falling snow.I am the gentle showers of rain,I am the fields of ripening grain.I am in the morning hush,I am in the graceful rushOf beautiful birds in circling flight,I am the starshine of the night.I am in the flowers that bloom,I am in a quiet room.I am in the birds that sing,I am in each lovely thing.Do not stand at my grave and cry,I am not there. I do not die.
~Mary Elizabeth Frye.