Three years ago, I am not sure exactly what I was doing right now, but probably washing all the little girl clothes in Dreft, sitting in the glider in the newly painted nursery and counting kicks. I think I was also finishing the thank you notes from all of my baby showers.
Two years ago, I am not exactly sure what I was doing right now, but probably missing all the little girl things I never got to do, sitting on the bed in the guest room and wondering if we were ever going to be able to turn the room into a nursery again. I was also busy planning a birthday party for a girl that no one but her dad and I ever met and hoping and praying that she would not be forgotten.
One year ago, I am not exactly sure what I was doing right now, but odds are I was staring at our rainbow miracle and wondering how it was that I could be this happy after being that sad.
Today, right now, I am working on some freelance writing while my daughter sleeps upstairs. There are no tears. There is no staring. There is just life.
Miranda did not replace Allie. Miranda is not a substitute for Allie. Miranda is the hope that I thought I lost.
Through my second daughter, I will always remember my first. I will see all that I missed and I hope I will appreciate it all that much more.
On our way back from the same walk, we saw a duck swimming in the creek out back. Allie's Creek. We stopped, pulled the stroller over it and just stared. I unconsciously reached for Gary's hand. "She would have liked that" he said. We walked the rest of the way in silence.
Allie is in everything I do and everything I am. I love her and miss her dearly. I want to a good person and wife and mother and sister and friend for her memory. I want her to have made me better. I think she has.
It's been more than a thousand days without her. Not a day goes by that she is not remembered. And not a day will.