On today your one month birthday, I want to remember your life. I want to remember the 38 weeks, 258 days of joy you brought to your Mommy and me.
I remember the first time I felt you kick. Mom and I were laying in bed. When I felt your big kick, I jumped back and couldn't believe it. Mom laughed at the look on my face and I was so proud of you.
Most nights before I fell asleep I would lean over and talk to you. I would call your name and feel you wiggle. I'd sing you a goofy song that was in my head and picture you smiling and laughing.
After being with the choir Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings, I would always sing the church songs to you. "Ride on Jesus Ride, Ride" "This is where children belong..." I wanted you to know the songs at church before you even came out. I also would teach you different pitches by singing "Do-Re-Mi-Fa-Sol" or "Do-Mi-Sol-Mi-Do." I pictured us singing together one day.
I want to remember our family trip for Thanksgiving. Cookie day with Grandma. The Christmas Eve Service at the farm. I want to remember you.
You lived a good life, Cara. While we all feel robbed by losing you too early, in some ways you lived a fuller life than most. In your short life and entrance to this world, you brought so much to us.
You brought love; you showed Mom and me what true, deep love is. When I held you shortly before we said goodbye, I would have given anything to trade places, to give my life and my heart for yours. I've never truly felt that way for someone else, but now you've taught us to love everyone, our friend, our enemy, in this way.
You brought beauty. The minute I first saw you, I was even more in love with you. Your dark hair, your nose, your Mom's eyes, mouth and hands, your tender cheeks. Even though you were lifeless and broken, there was something so beautiful and divine about you. But even more of your beauty flowed from your heart and soul. You had your Mother's strength and dignity and I think my jolly demeanor.
I'm starting to realize that my dreams for you living here on earth, seeing you grow up, running up for the children's message at church, learning to read and write, playing outside, all fall way too short.
Because now you are living the most wonderful life that could ever be imagined or wished for you. You are in perfect peace. You are complete through Christ's resurrection.
I love you, Cara. I'm remembering your legacy on this special day.