HOPE'S STORY, PART 16: "DEAR HOPE, HAPPY BIRTHDAY"

Dear Hope,
Today is your birthday.
I have been thinking about you all day.
I have been thinking about what you might be doing now.
Right now I'm thinking about what we would be doing if you were here.
You probably know by now that I am not a great success in the kitchen, but I would have found the perfect recipe and made you a purple butterfly cake.  The more frosting the better.  Then I would have lined the floor with newspaper, put you in nothing but your diaper, and put you in your high chair.  Your cake would have one candle in it and I think I would have Daddy blow it out for you after we sang you "Happy Birthday".  Grandma and Grandpa would be on Skype and so would Mimi and Papere.  Then I would have placed the cake in front of you and let you go to town.
I would have taken lots of pictures and put them on Facebook and on our blog.

When you were thoroughly finished (I imagine that cake would be demolished) we'd wash you up (a little) and let you dig into your presents, maybe helping you a little with the wrapping.  We would have given you some wooden blocks with colors and letters on them.  Maybe something to bite on.  Maybe some fun, colorful books.  Maybe a cute Sunday dress.  Then we would go to Walden Pond and let you put your feet in the water.  It's not cold and today is a magnificent and sunny autumn day.  The perfect day for your birthday.  We would tell you the things we love about you.
Last General Conference Elder Scott said something that made me think of you.  He quoted President Joseph F. Smith and said:

"'I believe we move and have our being in the presence of heavenly messengers and of heavenly beings.  We are not separate from them...We are closely related to our kindred, our ancestors...who have preceded us into the spirit world.  We cannot forget them; we do not cease to love them; we always hold them in our hearts, in memory, and thus we are associated and united to them by ties that we can not break...If this is the case with us in our finite condition, surrounded by our mortal weaknesses,...how much more certain it is...to believe that those who have been faithful, who have gone beyond...can see us better than we can see them; that they know us better than we know them...We live in their presence, they see us, they are solicitous for our welfare, they love us now more than ever.  For now they see the dangers that beset us;...their love for us and their desire for our well being must be greater than that which we feel for ourselves.'" (Richard G. Scott, "How to Obtain Revelation and Inspiration for Your Personal Life")  It's here, if you want:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Krpzw-a9WBY)

Joseph Smith taught that the spirit world is right here.  If that is true and that you 'know [me] better than [I] know [you]" then you must know how very, very dear you are to me--and the many, many things I have to be grateful for because of you.
I love that I feel closest to you, not at the cemetery where we have laid your body to rest, but in the daily events of life.
Like the time we were driving in the car in California, and I was playing 'Tinkerbell' with your cousin Afton and Daddy joined in and was pretending to be a snowboarding fairy named Thunder and was even using a manly fairy voice, I felt like you were right there laughing at your silly Daddy.
Or the time, just a few days after you went home, that I was sitting at the kitchen table with my head in my hands, missing you, and turned around to get something out of the fridge and noticed that the magnetic words on the fridge had been rearranged--instead of saying "I am in love with you" above our wedding announcement, it said "I am with you" above your picture.  I know Daddy did it, but I felt like it was with your approval.
Or the time, after coming home from California (we went there right after your 'celebration of life') when you knew it would be hard for me to walk into the apartment and see the flowers from your celebration and the vestiges of your life and you whispered, as I cleaned up, "You took care of me, now it's my turn to take care of you."
Or the very special time, on Mother's Day, when Daddy was already in Boston and I was by myself in Utah, and we spent an unspeakable sacred day together.

I even love that it's not just me and Daddy...how you have spent time recently with your grandparents means so much.  I want them to know you, too.  And even your cousins.  It melted my heart when Cedar texted me that Canon (who is 2) woke up and the first thing he said when he came down the stairs (and he doesn't talk a lot) was:  "Miss baby Hope.  Big hug."
You probably know now, how much it meant to me--how I can't even find the words--to hold you in my arms or on my tummy and brush your sweet head and kiss your sweet face.  Your smile changed my life every time.  And the contented sighing, and soft little squeal you made only a few times, but that taught us what a cute voice you have.
I love you, Hope.  It's ok that you aren't here.  I ache for you, but you aren't far.  And it won't be long til we are forever together.
I hope it's ok that I posted your letter for the world to see.  I want people to know that life and death are good.  Not easy, but so good.
You taught me that.  And many, many other things, that someday, I will tell you about and thank you for, face to face.  I love you, froggy.  Happy Birthday.

Love, Mommy

Hope's birthday cake (courtesy of Trader Joe's) that Daddy and I ate together.