I actually did fairly well, all things considered. I had a few breakdowns, but not so many I couldn't handle them.
I had a breakdown the morning before, when I was driving into town. I heard a romance song I've always liked and that I never associated with mourning, Richard Marx's "Right Here Waiting for You." There was a line or two that particularly referenced romance, but the rest of it spoke to my soul at the moment I was thinking of my angel's birthday the next day. I cried the whole time it played. Afterward, I found peace in the LDS temple to which I was heading when the song played. I hoped but didn't expect that to be the last.
The next day, the day of her ninth birthday, I reflected on her loss and cried again. It wasn't long, and I had my husband to hold. It felt good.
As we like to do, we kept ourselves busy to avoid too much self-pity and fruitless reflection on loss. We went out of town to celebrate my other daughter's birthday as a family. It was fun and kept our thoughts on other things. Then, the night came, and we gave Alli her birthday party with an angel food cake and a walk down memory lane through her birthday. We even had a friend there to show moral support. Coming to the end of her pictures always feels like a punch to the gut. Especially when I get to the funeral photos. It's been a long time since I've broken down that badly. It hurt. It will always hurt to pass through her birthdays, at least until we can hold her again.
