Wanting to Know You More

I just got off the phone with my dad. His birthday is today, and I had completely forgot until the evening. I ended up giving him a call to wish him a happy birthday. He was happy to hear me. I asked him, “is there anything you want for your birthday?” He answered, “no son, I don’t celebrate my birthday anymore. It’s too painful for me. Sad memories.” I understood.

The month of August is a hard month for me. Norah’s birthday falls on the last day of the month. This year she would be turning 7 years old. Unfortunately we won’t be able to celebrate with her. But my hope is that someone in the Eternal Place is celebrating her day of birth. We will also be celebrating as well.

When you lose a child, especially a young one, you miss out on so much. Norah passed away when she was 3 years old. Norah’s passing has caused me a different kind of pain, compared to my son’s passing. With my son Elijah, I had more time to get to know him and spend time with him. He passed away at 6 years old. Part of the reason I felt I knew my son more is because I spent more moments with him and my first daughter. It was spent either in the car ride to school, or on the weekends taking them out to the park or other activities.

Not so with Norah. She spent most of her first two years at home with my wife. She had just started school six months before the crash. So I did start to spend more time with her. But I don’t feel like I was able to know more about her, and get to know her like my other two children.

I was at my mom’s house one weekend last year, visiting my parents. We always end up in the dining room, talking about whatever comes to mind. My daughter would be in the living room with my brother, watching one of her favorite movies. The conversation turned to a memory I had of Norah. I was describing to my mom a time when I was in a Walmart store with my three kids. I had Norah in a shopping cart and the other two kids were walking alongside me. Norah wanted to get down, so I let her down, thinking she would walk alongside us. She must’ve been around 2 years old at the time. As soon as I placed her down, she took off who knows where. I ended up placing the other two kids in the cart and hunting her down in the store.

I told my mom this, and then said “I wonder where she gets this from?” My mom immediately responded with “you were the same way!” And that totally blew my mind. When would I ever have thought that Norah would have gotten that from me? My mother proceeded to tell stories of myself doing the exact same thing: running off and getting lost in stores. Never would I have thought that Norah and I would have something like that in common. I felt I grew closer to my daughter, even though she wasn’t there with me anymore.

Hug your kids. Spend as much time as you can with them. Savor and hold onto every moment and every memory. Be quick to forgive them, don’t worry about their mistakes or tantrums. Time passes quickly. And you never know when that time will be snatched away from you.

Your dad loves you Norah. Looking forward to celebrating your 7th birthday, even if we are separated. I hope to see you again someday in the Eternal Place. And I hope to get to know you more.