Today is Liberty's first Heavenly Birthday and I am much more of a mess than normal. She would have been 26 today. I miss her from the marrow of my bones. Miss taking care of her. Just miss her.
Yesterday, in church, it hit me that I have nothing to get for her. Then I realized she doesn't need anything anymore. Nothing. Her list of potential gifts is ZERO. So, I cried there in church. A cry that is like wearing someone else's worn-out shoes. Quietly and unabashedly. It poured. Crying is not a sport I am good at. At all. I am happy sitting on the bench in this game. It's just not natural for me- and that's ok.
There is nothing left for me to give her. I can continue to do volunteer work in her name. I can tell stories of her to share her life with others. I can offer pictures of her and sign her favorite songs loudly, but there is nothing that she really needs.
I cried more when I realized that I do have a gift to give her after all.
Then, it hit me. It was right before communion when I realized that I DO have one more real present to offer: it's the sunrise. The only thing I can do is to keep getting up every day and doing what I can to continue. I have to keep getting up. Damn it. I have to go "on and on" for her, for Mariah, for me, for all of us. So there it is. This is the gift. "Sing Loud, Fly High, and Be Brave."
This weekend I went to the Happy Cemetary and was grateful for the opportunity to be there with her beautiful headstone. It is a lovely place to visit as my mom and dad are both there as well. I haven't been in Happy since my exodus in April, and I have missed it. Prayers for the blessing of health and happiness for the people in Happy.
Now is the time to decide that it isn't a mistake that I am surviving the departure of our Liberty. This road is terribly hard to navigate, but it is also vital. I have a gift left to give, and I will continue to try.
On this day, may we all remember our love and live fully.
You are loved. You are important. You are a gift.
