princess

Today should have been just another day for her. It's not her birthday, but she'd be wearing a tiara for sure (which would probably be permanently attached to her head by now). Pink, ruffles, lace, rhinestones...and that would just be her pajamas.

Would she still have her tracheostomy? I don't know. I know for a fact, though, that if she did, the ties would not be the standard blue, because her momma would have bought up every pair of pink/purple/princess/girly ties she could find on Etsy.

Would the consult she was scheduled to have in Boston have been successful? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, her momma would never have given up on her. She left late into the night every night, and would call at the same time an hour or so later to check on her blood gas. She gave up everything for her girl, but she would never have called it a sacrifice.

Would she be walking and playing? It might have been with assisting devices, but she would have fought through it with her quiet, determined peace (and the occasional tantrum when she was just absolutely over it). Would she still make us work for her smiles? Undoubtedly. And they would still be every bit as rewarding as they were then.

She stared into the depths of our souls and spoke more with her eyes than any words could say. She decided when to grace us with her presence, and she decided when it was time to go Home...three years ago today.

She reminded her nurses, doctors, and therapists from every discipline why we chose to enter the professions we did. She taught us to be grateful for every day and every victory. Her momma taught us what unconditional love on earth looks like and what utter dedication means. Her continued strength is inspiring.

Sweet girl, we remember. We promise never to forget what you taught us.