Tuesday, March 15, 2011









I got some balloons.
The kids wrote notes and pictures on them for Daddy.
Then they let them go, sent them up.

It was the beginning of a nice tradition.

It's been three years.
The kids don't remember much, if anything.
I don't want them to feel as if their daddy never existed.

For a long time, I pushed him to the very back of my mind, tried to forget, did what I had to do to make it through the days, weeks, months, and years.

Time heals all wounds, they say.
I'm not sure that's completely true.
I'm not sure I'll ever be 'healed'.
But I can feel myself healing.

So this year, I made it a point to take the time to remind the kids that it was their daddy's birthday.
We did something special, to remember him, to celebrate him.
And we will continue this every year, in honor of him.

We miss him, every day.
We love him, always.

Happy Birthday, my sweet City Love.







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