I’ve been sitting here in the wee hours, enjoying the quiet when I’m the only one still awake. And when I looked at the date, I realized that there are two birthdays coming up in the next eight days of people I have lost and will never stop missing.

Merna — my only sibling and best friend for life (in spite of all the youthful fights) — would have celebrated 91 years on Wednesday, September 18th. We would have gone to dinner, probably at our favorite little French cafe, Le Refuge, in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia . . . assuming we could both still walk, that is. Or we could simply have ordered Chinese takeout and watched a couple of old movies. It didn’t matter where we celebrated, just as long as we did it together.

And Emily — my precious, beautiful, brilliant granddaughter who left us a little over two years ago — would have been 29 on the 23rd. She crammed so much living into the nearly 27 years she was given, in spite of — or maybe because of — the difficulties with which she was born. All she wanted in life was to save the world. Given more time, she might have succeeded.

They say the grief fades, or gets less intense with time. I don’t find that to be true. I think you simply learn to live with it.

Happy birthdays, Merna and Emi. I miss you both, every minute of every day, and even in my dreams.

Love,
Nana
9/15/24