'til we meet

it was a tuesday this year, april 23rd, that marked two years since briana passed away.

i thought for a long time about what i wanted to do to honor the day. a service project? a small gathering of friends? a donation? a big batch of lemon bars? but life caught up with me and i never really settled on anything and then there i was, sitting at the doctor's office hearing the ultrasound tech telling us that the baby we are expecting in september is a girl and i was so relieved and so happy and i started to cry and then i realized.

it was april 23rd.

i don't miss briana the way i used to, with an intense sadness that would come crashing down unexpectedly and try to stick around, and i think that is as it should be. i miss her now in the sort of way you miss a friend who pops in every once in a while but who you wish popped in more.

i wonder if she would like mumford and sons and the lumineers or what she would think of the wendy davis fillibuster or pinterest. i wish i could ask her why my attempts at her favorite shortbread recipe keep going wrong.

i have had for some time now a strong and satisfying feeling that she is busy, engaged and moving forward with her life on the other side, and that we should be doing the same here. sure, i wish she could see my belly, feel my baby kick, give me assurance and advice. but i am also learning that i can forge my own way and find my own answers. i am proud of that, and i think she is, too.

in my head i have an image of briana on the other side, getting our baby ready to come. telling her stories about me-- what kind of friend i was and what kind of mom i might be. they will never meet on this earth, but i think they are already friends.

and if, a few years down the road, it turns out that my baby can make a perfect batch of buttery, sugary shortbread, i'll know for sure.