It's my dad's 60th birthday, a day that our family is truly lucky and blessed to celebrate.
This morning I woke up early and went to the beach so I could take pictures of the beginning of this day. A day that will always mean so much to me.
I wrote Gabriel's name in the wet sand. And thought how perfect this day would be if only he were still here with us.
My due date is not until next month. If Gabriel didn't get sick, I'd still be pregnant... blissfully pregnant. I'd be walking around daydreaming of motherhood. Proud and delighted to be carrying the person who would turn my dad into a grandfather for the first time. I imagined myself picking out a onesie printed with the words "My grandpa loves me!" and buying my dad one of those mugs that says "World's Greatest Grandpa."
But instead, I wrote Gabriel's name in the sand in his memory. In sacred remembrance of his brief life here on earth... all 29 weeks and 1 day of it.
Gabriel will never celebrate his 60th birthday. He'll never be a dad. He'll never cherish a day so much that it warrants waking up at 5 a.m. to watch it begin.
I'm starting to realize that the "Gabriel will never" list is neverending.
More than anything, I wish that I could trade all the rest of my days so that he could just have one. One day to watch the sun rise, to celebrate a beloved birthday, to feel the sand between his toes, to watch pelicans soar above the ocean waves, to laugh and cry, to experience this crazy, extraordinary thing we call life.
Today is a wonderful day.
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