Birthday

On the kitchen wall hangs a calendar, the kind with big squares, a calendar intended
for the top of an office desk. Friday is a birthday. Krystal's 27th birthday. She isn't here
to celebrate. She died. In May.
She died in May several years ago. Friday is her birthday.

God chose two people as Krystal's parents, and entrusted them with four beautiful girls. Will Krystal's mom and dad mourn? Celebrate? Or do both? Will Krystal's sisters smile and remember? Or remember and feel sad? Will Krystal's niece and nephew, young children, ever understand?

I do not know how it feels to lose a child. Or a sister. I cannot know the grief in the hearts of this family, nor their joy in Krystal.

Krystal's funeral packed the church. So many people came! Will family and friends remember two days from now? Will people reach out with a note or a phone call? Share a memory? Say a prayer?

Bring a pink flower to her grave?

As I thought about Krystal this morning I sought out something tangible – an old photo glued into a scrapbook for my son. It was taken on Labor Day weekend, just before Krystal's first birthday...
 

... an aging snapshot of Krystal and her older sister with my son and daughter. Krystal is the brunet in the blue pants. Isn't she beautiful?

Rw

Yes, God will banish death forever
... wipe the tears from every face

Isaiah 25:8