Happy Birthday to my girl

She would have been 4 years old today. I refuse to be sad. I miss her, wish she was here, am angered that she will never get any older. But today, I will celebrate that she was born, that she was in my life, and that I will always remember my girl.

Why is the second year after losing someone harder? My explanation--the every day is easier if you choose to live it. I looked outside myself and once the fog cleared, found reasons to keep going. Now I can get myself going without always needing someone (e.g. my crying, hungry baby) to get me started. The big events--her birthday, death anniversary, etc. still smack me in the face though. On those days, I can't distract myself enough. It's NOT just another day, it is (or should be) a special, happy day and it's just not.

Today, I want to remember my girl. So here are 10 things I'd like you to know about her.

1. She loved thunderstorms. The thunder itself was her favorite, but she also loved rain and lightning.
2. She loved all animals, but dogs most of all. And they seemed to love her too.
3. She loved food. She wasn't a big meat eater (I thought she'd be vegetarian someday, like me) but otherwise she just loved to eat.
4. She was super-flexible. Her nanny videotaped her doing the "leg trick," in which she would sit in a chair and put both legs straight up with her feet near her ears.
5. She knew 3 languages--English, ASL, and a dialect my grandmother taught me. And she would translate for anyone who didn't understand the language she was using at the time.
6. She was good at sharing. I never once hear her say "mine" and if another child wanted the toy she was playing with, she would just hand it over and move on to something else.
7. She would make meals in her play kitchen, serve them to us, and then blow on them to cool the food before she'd let us eat.
8. She'd recently discovered apple and blueberry crisp ("trisp") and it was her favorite dessert.
9. When I was pregnant with her sister and not walking around much, she would pick things up off the floor for me, make sure I had my pillow when I sat at the dining table, and sit beside me on the sofa looking at magazines.
10. Red was her color. Her nursery was red, and she looked beautiful in red.

I wear red today in her memory. I'm tearing up writing this, because I miss her. I'm having a "somebody tell me what to do day" and fortunately a friend called at 8:30 this morning and already took care of that.

Miss you, love you, my big girl.