I woke up disgruntled that morning; nothing seemed to be starting out well.
The boys were fighting, and into all kinds of mischief. I could see my day was
not starting out right.

I started getting breakfast for the boys and, as usual, the bickering at the table
began. "Mom, he's looking at me!" piped up my middle son. As I turned I
happened to see the oldest one sticking his tongue out. It definitely was
going to be one of those days.

Meanwhile, the youngest was playing with his breakfast that morning, giving
me one of those smiles that only babies enjoying themselves can give. As the
middle one, excused himself for a few minutes, I concentrated on feeding the little one.

I next heard, Jeremy starting to cry, I noticed, my oldest son, running to his
bedroom. I asked Jeremy what was the matter, meanwhile, between tears,
and sniffling, "he replied", "Arin said he ate all my breakfast"!

Looking back at his seat at the table, his breakfast was still sitting there,
pointing out to Jeremy, that, "Arin, did not eat your breakfast"!!Getting up to get him
some tissue's, I heard a thud on the kitchen floor, taking a deep breath, realizing
my baby had just thrown his bowl on the floor.

As my day wore on, I seemed to be getting more and more short tempered,
After taking the boys for a walk, and trying to distract
them into playing with
their games, the day just seemed to get longer and longer.

Nap time was a relief for me. Out of sorts myself, and not knowing exactly why,
I was almost putting myself ill at ease. As I was getting ready to sit down, and get
my quiet time in, I could hear, Jeremy coughing and wheezing, as he's an allergic
asthmatic, I knew I had to go check on him. Sure enough, he needed his
medications. As I held him, rubbing his back, my time,was going to be spent much differently today.

Jeremy suffered from chronic asthma; he made the ER on a regular
basis, they had tested him for everything, respiratory wise, between his pediatricians, pulmonary physician, and allergy
physician, we spent a large part of our time within the medical community.

As I held his 4 yr old body close to mine, my thoughts, kept nagging at me, that
something just wasn't right. As his breathing eased I laid him down, only too
hear, Matt waking up from his nap.Ironically thinking to myself, no quiet time for me today.

My day wore on, that nagging feeling never leaving me. When my husband came
home, he noticed how out of sorts I was. Never commenting on it, just helping
with the dinner, and feeding the children. Bath time, came and went.

Then as they were all tucked in for the night, I turned to Richard, saying to him, "I don't know what's wrong with me tonight!"

He turned and looked at me, saying, "I do, hon. What's today's date?".

I looked at him blankly, August 1st.

He said to me, "You always get this way, on her birthday. I was dumbstruck, realizing, that I had blocked out our daughter's birthday. The feelings, and memories, came flooding back, the sorrow, and anguish, still hadn't diminished, in these 8 years.

As he looked at me, I walked away, needing that time, to feel, to remember
The small bundle, which was taken away from me, and the years I spent, still haunted by it.

I retreated into the front room, gently closing the door behind me, lighting my
candles, scents of vanilla filling my nose. Pulling the rocker up close to the
window, as I looked into the yard of my neighbors,their huge oak tree, the girth
exceeding the arms of a man. Rocking gently, watching the sunset, and the sky
changing, letting the quiet into my soul, and mind. As I rocked back and
forth, I felt, a hand, upon me, a child's hand, but no one came through the door!

Bolting upright, I feel the body of a child, climbing into my lap, and a head,
nestling against my shoulder. Sitting back in my chair, I could feel the outpouring
of love, surrounding me, images flashing, not of my own accord, but, of an
8 yr old girl, hair long and dark thick like her father's, flowing over my arm.
I sat, spellbound, afraid to move; afraid to lose what ever it was I was feeling.
But, the warmth and love, coming from this, was unlike anything, I had
ever felt before. Relaxing back into the rocker, in my ear, I could hear, a child's
Voice say to me, "I love you Mama."

Tear's streaming down my face, I chose at that moment in time, to believe, I
had received a Gift of Love. This has never been something I have shared
before, but, Love, does need to be shared. Whether this comes from
the mind, or my mind's desire, I have never forgotten, the surrounding feelings
of love enfolding me, in those childish arms. I believe, my daughter's,
present To me on her birthday.

Copyright 2000 Gwenn Lewis

Thank you, Kathy for the editing!

Dedicated to Lynette Amber Lewis born August 1, 1978 died August 1, 1978