Happy, happy 18th birthday, dear Kyrie!
Birth. Day. Isn't it curious that birth—a one-time occurance for each of us—is so grand, so brilliantly miraculous that we recognize and commemorate that event every. single. year.
Your birth was, indeed, grand and brilliantly miraculous. Your soul was made visible. You made two people in our family parents for the very first time. You created a family. You brought the sweetest little face into the world. All of that happened. You happened.
I'm always torn writing your birthday posts because I know I wouldn't be sending birthday wishes this way if you were still with us. I'd be sending a card or giving you a hug, asking you about college or friends. I imagine how much your little sister and birthday cousin would look up to you. I imagine how much we'd all take for granted you walking through the door.
This birthday, the one where you'd stand on the precipice of adulthood, reminds me just how marvelous it is that we exist at all, how we are loved into being, how we were intended to be here and how our return home is the what this life is all about. That's probably why I still post—because you exist, once here with us and now forever where we all hope to be.
Will be sending your birthday love in my prayers today, dear one. Grateful that you continue to be such a gift. 💗
