You loved counting to three in Spanish. Dos was your favorite number to say. Today you would be Tres. I wish you were here with us.
Mommy has been very depressed lately...and not sleeping. She misses you terribly. She loves you completely.
I know your beautiful blond curls would be all the way down your back by now. You would be talking up a storm and cracking us up everyday. And singing...oh, what I would give to hear you singing. I don't know how it works, but I have hope that we'll experience all these things with you someday.
Help me, Lucy. Help me be a good mommy to Peter. Help me endure this life well. Help me "Let go and Let God." A part of me died with you and I need help being re-born. My birthday gift to you today is a commitment to keep going despite the crippling emotions that I feel.
The English language is woefully inadequate--there are no words to express my love for you. And thus, no words for my pain and loss. I want to feel whole, I want to feel happy. I want to feel my Lucy.
Happy Heavenly Birthday my dear Lucia--
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