You'd be 9 years old today, a third grader with long dark hair and blue eyes and maybe a few loose teeth. You'd be riding your bike or maybe throwing snow balls, bugging your Big Sister while your Baby Sister bugs you. Later we'd be watching you blow out the candles on your chocolate cake, scooping ice cream and watching you open your presents and shushing you and your giggling friends when you should all be in bed. We'd have done our best to make this day a special and happy one.
If you were here.
But you're not.
Instead we will take flowers to your grave and I am sure cry even more, lost in memories and wishes, hopes and dreams unrealized, trying to get past the pain of losing you.