It was Daddy's birthday two Fridays ago. We celebrated it at home on the day itself with a simple dinner of spaghetti, barbeque and cake. Your Aunt Candy, Uncle Manuel and cousin Mio were here with Lolo and Lola. The following Sunday, we celebrated again, this time in a restaurant with your grandparents in Daddy's side, together with her sister's family and Uncle Richard.
Every birthday is a cause for celebration of life and blessings. I was happy because except for Daddy's slight gout attack that day, Daddy was healthy and strong. But I was also sad because I wanted to celebrate it with you still inside me. The celebration would have been complete. Instead, I woke up sad knowing that you were no longer physically with us. Daddy's birthday would have been a lot happier and special had you still been in my womb. He didn't say anything about it but I knew it was what he was thinking because you were his joy and mine. Daddy always kissed my tummy when you were still there and he would often talk to you and sing you songs. How I miss the joy we felt then!
Now, all I feel is emptiness, sadness and longing for you, my sweet baby. I try so hard to forget by watching comedy series like Monk and Psych on DVD. I also play games and read books. But in between the DVD marathons and playing and reading, the same feelings darken my days. I wake up sad and fall asleep with the same sadness and longing.
I hope it is true that you can see everything that happens in our family. I hope you can see me and Daddy and Kuya and that you are slowly getting to know us day by day. I feel sad that you never got to know me and I never got to really know you. Maybe someday when we get to see you again in Heaven, we would be able to get that chance. Right now, I must be content with my hope that you are watching us and getting to know us. And that you can see how dearly loved you are.
I love you, my sweet Sofie.
A hundred flying kisses to you in Heaven,