Today is my ‘oldest’ daughters birthday. There won’t be presents. There won’t be cake. You won’t find our family all together dining at her favorite restaurant or sharing stories of past celebrations around the table.
Makenzie has graduated from all of that. Her final birthday celebration was five years ago today, a month before she died. I guess, putting it that way, my oldest is now my youngest. She’s five years in heaven (if there were a measure of time in eternity).
As I watch the sun paint its beauty across this morning’s sky, I miss my five year old. I miss her dance. I miss her smile. I miss the way she snorted when she laughed and I miss her random hugs. I tear up thinking of the unmerited “I love you, Daddy” that she’d giggle to me at all times of the day.
Yet in my morning solemness, I am grateful. Because this Daddy’s heart first and foremost wants to know that my kids are safe. Makenzie is. God made sure of that. He loves her more than I do, if that were even possible. She is with Him, waiting for me.
And so I’ll ponder her life today. I’ll roam the halls of my memories. At times, I’ll smile and I’ll moisten. I’ll be quiet and I’ll laugh. All because of my little five year old who is finally home.
(Read Makenzie’s Story Here or type her name in the search bar at the right for more blog posts about her life)