What makes a Happy Birthday? Birthdays are supposed to be a celebration of life. In a perfect world, Anastasia would be twelve-years-old today. She would be in Junior High School. She would be discovering the joys and trials of becoming a woman. She would be alive. This is not a perfect world.
I recently attended a funeral for a former co-worker. Rob was in his fifties and is survived by numerous family including his mother. I don't know how old she is, but I would guess that she is in her late seventies. As I proceeded to pay my respect to Rob and his family, I was presented to his mother. I know how this poor little old woman felt. Death at any age is too young.
This was only the second funeral that I have attended since Anastasia's. Although this is her birthday, I can't help but reminisce of that time, so long ago. For without the reminder of death, there would be no need to celebrate life.
I light a single candle. As I blow it out, I make a wish for Anastasia. Bonne nuit, mon petit chou.
Edward E. Backstrom
07-12-03
