December 30 is the anniversary of the birth of my nephew, Noah, to my sister, Darcie. Tragically, Noah was still born. The past 3 years have been a whirlwind of new beginnings for Darcie, and for that I am grateful. She works with mentally handicapped children in a local school district and is working on her Masters in Special Education. She has a lot to give to others and I'm glad she's found her calling.
We miss Noah terribly, and think of him often. My arms ache sometimes for the inability to hold him like I did the night he was born. I held him and rocked him and kissed him like you would any other baby, but it was the hardest thing to know that the first time I held him would also be the last.
Darcie's loss has brought new opportunities her way, and, I feel, has allowed her to take leaps that she might not have before. I am eternally thankful that she has persevered and came out on the other side of her tragedy with a positive outlook.
Today we went to breakfast at a restaurant that serves coffee in a mismatched cups. Darcie's coffee was brought in a cup that had flowers and the word 'Mom' on it. It was a happy thing to have happened on this day, indeed.
Happy Birthday, Noah. We love you...
