For seven years this day was a special day, one that always had me preparing weeks prior. With every passing day you would change your mind on what you wanted. This was definitely a day to celebrate. After all you were our youngest son, and a birthday only came once a year.
So now that this day has came upon us, I can’t help but ask myself what to do? Should I still bake a cake? Maybe sing “Happy Birthday.” There was no party planning, no R.S.V.P. This year there are tears, no joy, no laughter, just pain.
Maybe now I’m supposed to celebrate this thing everyone calls your “Angel Day,” the day you were taken from us. That day wasn’t planned for. No weeks to prepare. No day to celebrate. Forever seven...
So it hurts too bad to say it, so I’ll put it in writing; Happy Birthday, sweat pea.
Symon Gauge Race 6-23-01-1-23-09