September

Today is our anniversary.
Four years. (Would have been.)
But we never made it to one.
Together that is.
Sigh.
Still miss him and love him like crazy, and it's hard to believe so much has happened since then.
I had our girl.
And she's growing up.
It is easier to measure my life, post Alan, in Lily minutes - because it is mostly she who has kept me afloat and helped me to find my sea legs in the past two and a half years.

But I am here, and grateful for it.

This time four years ago we were on the eve of newly wedded bliss.
We got a taste of it. Buzzing on a moped in the Aeolian islands, on ocean roads in Sicily, wandering the streets of Florence. But even at the end of our honeymoon, Alan's hand often rested on his chest. I can forever see him posed that way. His ribs were hurting, we knew something was up. We had coasted since a major surgery in July, so, I guess, we were due for a reality check.

Got it.
Still wildly happy in love, and achingly saddened by what hung in the balance.

New tumors, cracked ribs.

Italy at least still lingered, fresh in our minds.
And the love and excitement that floated us through an amazing, family and friend filled celebration, had left our hearts near bursting with happiness and the kind of joy that always feels good to remember.

It still is hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that Lily is aware of none of it/this. She knows her dad and will continue to do so through me and her extended family. I just wish she could have a moment with Alan. To experience his humor, to climb into his lap, sit on his shoulders, taste his Bananas Foster.

Mmmmmmmm... Yummyyyy!! She'd say. That's GOOD. She'd exclaim.
I love hearing her satisfaction.

September now marks the eve of pre-school.
Lily is ready.
Dressing herself with regular wardrobe changes, testing the boundaries, challenging my decisions, picking my outfits, riding her tricycle and scooter with ease, doing everything herself.

And she continues to fill the air with song.
I used to love hearing Alan hum. It filled me with happiness to hear him momentarily unfettered by dark thoughts.
And now Lily buzzes around gleefully (most of the time) and I savor the repeat performances.

Recently while we were playing together, with her back to me, she said -
You happy mama?
Yes Pumpkin I am.
Why?
Because you're here and you make me soooo happy. Are you happy Lily?
Yes, she says quietly, focused on her beads.

May
she
always
be.