Today is your birthday, son.
I know. I know. Your days are no longer numbered. Your days are eternal now. You don't have to concern yourself with aging any longer. I know.
But my heart will never let go of this day, my son. It was one of pain and joy thirty-six years ago when I gave birth to you. And just as pain and joy merged 36 years ago and gifted me with thirty-three years of your presence, this day will always remind me of that time. It just will.
When I made this blanket of flowers, I knew your girls would love it. They haven't seen it yet, but after all, there is purple roses all through it. Some folks see no sense in placing flowers at a grave. A waste of money. I use to think that, too, remember? I don't anymore. Today I know the need to place flowers. It's not for you, but me and the girls. They remind me of life...not death. They bring the color of your life into my mind. The joy, the laughter, the goofy things you did.
And the girls think of you all the time, son. They haven't forgotten. They left you something last week when their mom brought them by to see you. I smiled with joy when I saw it. A beautiful purple sequined purse! It's at the foot of the backside of your headstone. Is that not a hoot?! Such love they have that makes them want to give. You instilled that in them, son. The joy they give keeps running like the energizer bunny--it goes on an on.
Thank you, son, for teaching them to love~~and especially to love me. I know if you were here that you'd be so proud. So very, very proud. And they'd be singing Happy Birtday and doing their birthday cheers for you. And you'd be smiling your familiar gorgeous smile. They do remember the good times and they do love you bunches and bunches. And so do I. Love, Mom
By the way, I saw that Chacon dropped by and left a part of his gold Mizpah for you. He hung it on the cross. I moved it because I was afraid someone might steal it. But it is still there, near you. Tell Jesus and Paul hello for me. good nite my son, good nite.
