The end of winter, with a few frigid days followed by warmth takes me back to 2007. The day she died, I was in the doctor's office in jeans and a sleeveless shirt with my hair tied up in a bandana. It was warm and the sun was bright. Just before we knew there was a problem, the dr was teasing me about need new jeans (I was using the old rubber band trick). The day she was born, it was freezing. I didn't bring a jacket to the hospital; I didn't care about the cold. The day we came home from the hospital, it was terribly windy and very chilly. I can remember the wind blowing the car door hard as we tried to load up our things. I remember being wheeled out, empty armed, to wait for Sam to bring the car around. On the way out, there was a new mother. We had both just given birth and were going home but the home she was facing was much different than mine. I will never forget her face. She watched me go out, probably wondering why I looked the way I did, why I didn't need a carseat. I wanted so desperately to tell her. I wanted her to know Keely's name.
The day of the funeral started out chilly and got even colder as the day rolled along. The one time the sun was shining was after the funeral, on the way to internment at the cemetary. Sam was carrying her tiny casket out, I was behind him carrying Boston as he slept and the sun crept through the window. By the time we got to the cemetary, there was a light mist and a cloudy sky. It was very cold, especially for April 14th. I remember worrying that her flowers or ribbons would blow away.
And so, the days of in between, when you aren't sure what to expect of spring will always remind me of my girl and the days we said goodbye. Her days are creeping up to us again. How did 2 years pass us by? In the midst of remembering, we will celebrate and in the midst of celebrating, we will remember.