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Tomorrow is your 3rd birthday. The third turn of a year for you, in which you aren’t here.

It’s been 2 years and 5 months since I last held or touched you. 2 years and 5 months since I last heard you cry or made you smile. 2 years and 5 months without the smell of your hair or the softness of your skin.

You came earth-side two weeks early and in grand fashion, born only 45 minutes after we were admitted. You did everything that way- quickly and early, even your departure was abrupt.

Your beautiful honey brown eyes captivated anyone who gave you a passing glance, and your smile could light up a room. Even strangers would comment about the aura you exuded- as if you had wisdom far beyond your age and ability.

You knew something we didn’t. You’ve gone on to do great things since your death, giving purpose even in tragedy. Death took your body. But oh, how beautifully you continue to live.

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