We had plans to celebrate Rhys' brithday with family at the Chinook Mall Bowladrome, and thank-goodness we did. With heavy hearts and bloodshot eyes, we all got to be together, laughing with, and spoiling, our 5 year old little man, all too aware that a family just like ours, had had this precious luxury ripped from them forever.
We celebrated a second time the following Saturday, this time with friends as well, at our place. Ioften dwell on the amount of time and money spent to celebrate birthdays, especially when the celebrations turn into week long events, with hundreds of dollars spent on gifts, activities, food, drinks, and decorations.
This year, I didn't care at all. I wanted to spoil my son rotten, make him laugh and feel special, and snuggle him tight at night in his bed as he rambled on about anything and everything. I bought decorations I knew would only be used once, and I baked him a special cake even though I loathe baking.
None of us are guaranteed another birthday. And my heart still breaks daily for Nathan's parents, whose Facebook page looks just mine, only now it's full of awkward words of condolences posted on a wall.
