To Alanna, On her birthday
Happy birthday, girl.
I’m sure you’re going to hear this a lot today, but I have to say it all the same – I miss you. I miss you when Nana does something funny like putting two different shoes on. I miss you when Bryan and I aren’t seeing eye-to-eye, and I need someone to check me on my bull shit. I miss you as I’m deciding what dress to rent for my friend’s wedding. And I used to miss you before I woke because it meant I had to return to world without you in it.
But I know that’s not true because you’re here, in everything…in every one. You’re in the sunshine that kisses my cheeks, the wind singing through the trees – the stars I wish on at night to turn back time and bring you back to us.
You’re in the strength I’ve summoned to see me through this year. You’re in the the kindness I’ve shown to others, the support I’ve lent to friends, the love I’ve given to everyone in my life. You’re in me.
In the beginning, I was so angry. Angry at a god that would take someone so wonderful and special and bright from this world. Angry at all that was stolen from you. Angry because it just wasn’t fair.
The last time we spent together – like, really spent together – was the drive to LGA from Sag. I dropped you off, we had a quick hug, and then you were through the gate. When I got home, I saw I had a missed call from you – you missed the plane. I got in the car and scooped you up and brought you home. When I dropped you back off five hours later, you hugged me tight and said you were lucky to have me. Even then, I knew it was the other way around.
We are, and have always been, the lucky ones. So, I take this day to think about not what you might have been, but to celebrate what you always were – the most extraordinarily breathtaking soul to ever rock Stilettos.
I love you Alanna – for my whole life. And whenever I miss you, I shall look to the sky and find you where you were always meant to be – among the stars.
Until we meet again,