It’s a warm, sunny day in spring, the sky is speckled with clouds on the horizon. A cool breeze shifts through the tree branches above a small group of people, gathering together for a picnic on the grass. There’s an unspoken, almost tangible magic that can be felt by all.

I can see a floral blanket spread out, and baskets of food and drink and lawn games to play. This is how they are spending my birthday. I can almost taste the nostalgia as the laughter and love become one with the breeze. Even though everything is different now, the memories remain the same.

I used to love picnics in the park. People together, sharing food and laughter. Fresh air, family games, and selfies.

Everything is different now.

I still want to picnic in the park. Instead I get to picnic in the Pearly Gates and I’m teaching the angels how to do it right.

I used to be the one who brought the food, drink, and games. I loved showing up with my arms full of bags of goodies, always bringing more things than we needed, but oh well. It brought me joy to spoil my family.

Everything is different now.

I still want to be the one who brings the food, drinks, and games. But instead I get to see you bring all the things, and I realize I taught you well.

I used to lie down on the blanket next to my sisters and whisper about things that only sisters understood. I would chase my niece and nephew in a game of tag or even make a TikTok video with them if they asked. I thought I would be young forever.

Everything is different now.

I still want to be the one lying down on the blanket whispering to my sisters. But instead I get to watch them whisper and engage with each other.

I used to hold my mom’s hand while listening to her stories and rub my dad’s back when I saw him in pain. I can’t do any of that now. I know they are hurting and missing my touch.

Everything is different now.

I still want to be the one holding them. But instead I get to watch them hold on to each other.

I used to be the one with all the stories and the who wouldn’t stop talking. “Little Miss Chatterbox”, they called me. I really did love to talk!

Everything is different now.

I still want to be the one with all the stories. But instead I get to hear you tell all the stories.

I used to be the one doing a cartwheel in the grass, flying the kite, hiding Easter eggs, sharing my sunscreen, and drinking all the sangria. I always had a lot to say and a lot to do, and I was rarely still.

Everything is different now.

I still want to be the one doing a cartwheel in the grass, but instead I get to pay attention to how you enjoy life. And that makes me smile.

It’s my birthday today and I’m not physically here anymore. But I am still speaking. Death cannot take my voice. If anything, it made me louder. Now you can hear my voice in the memories, the picnics, the food, the laughter, the whispers, the games, the touch, the stories, the selfies, and the cartwheels.

Everything is different now, but one thing remains …

I am still the blue-eyed, rosy cheeked, chatterbox of a girl with long chestnut brown wild hair, bright classy clothes, and the sweetest face you’ll ever remember.

I may not be able to do the things I used to, but instead I get to do even more!