But it was the girls who truly kept me going. Olivia had Anne\u2019s stubborn chin and her way of scrunching up her whole face when she laughed. Emma had her gentle curiosity, always staring at everything with those wide, wondering eyes. And Ava, the smallest, had her fierce determination \u2014 always the first to roll over, the first to crawl, the first to shout \u2018Dada\u2019 from her crib. Every milestone was a stab of joy and pain all twisted together. I\u2019d cheer and clap, and then I\u2019d have to walk into the next room and fall apart because Anne wasn\u2019t there to see it.<\/p>\n
When they turned one, we had a little party at the house. I made a smash cake all by myself \u2014 it was lopsided and the frosting was too thick, but the girls dug into it with their tiny fists and I laughed for the first time in months. I remember looking at their messy faces and thinking, \u2018Anne, I hope you can see this. I hope you know they\u2019re okay.\u2019<\/p>\n
The years slipped by like pages in a book you can\u2019t stop reading. First steps turned into running, first words turned into endless questions. I learned how to braid hair by watching YouTube videos at two in the morning. I memorized every Disney movie song and the names of every princess and which lunchbox belonged to which girl. I sat through ballet recitals and soccer games and school plays, always alone in my folding chair, clapping until my hands hurt.<\/p>\n
I dated once, a few years after Anne passed. A kind woman named Cheryl who taught at the elementary school. She was patient and warm and the girls liked her, but I couldn\u2019t do it. Every time she laughed, I\u2019d hear Anne\u2019s laugh. Every time she touched my hand, it felt like a betrayal. I ended things after six months, and Cheryl understood. She said I wasn\u2019t ready, and she was right. I don\u2019t think I\u2019ll ever be.<\/p>\n
People in Ashford were good to us. The church brought meals for years. The neighbors mowed our lawn when they saw the grass getting too high. Anne\u2019s best friend, Linda, still came over every Sunday with fresh flowers for the kitchen table, just like Anne used to keep. It was as if the whole town had wrapped their arms around us, holding us up so we wouldn\u2019t fall.<\/p>\n
The girls grew into their own people. Olivia became the responsible one, always organizing her sisters and reminding me about permission slips and book fair money. Emma was the dreamer, spending hours drawing and writing little stories about talking animals and faraway lands. Ava was the firecracker, climbing the tallest trees on the street and coming home with scraped knees and triumphant grins. They were so different, but they shared one thing: their mother\u2019s heart.<\/p>\n
Every year on Anne\u2019s birthday, we\u2019d release balloons in the backyard. We\u2019d write messages on little slips of paper first \u2014 \u2018I love you Mommy\u2019, \u2018I miss you\u2019, \u2018Thank you for giving us Daddy\u2019. I\u2019d watch those balloons float up into the sky and imagine them reaching her, wherever she was. The girls would cry, and I\u2019d hold them, and we\u2019d all promise to remember her.<\/p>\n
On the anniversary of her passing, I\u2019d take the day off work and drive to the cemetery. I\u2019d sit by her headstone and talk to her, telling her about the girls, about my job at the auto shop, about the little things that made me laugh or cry that week. Sometimes I\u2019d bring a sunflower. Sometimes I\u2019d just sit in silence and let the tears come. I never went with anyone else. That was our time, just Anne and me.<\/p>\n
Yesterday, the girls turned ten. A decade without their mother. A decade of me trying to be enough for them.<\/p>\n
We\u2019d planned a big backyard party for months. The girls had made lists of everything they wanted: a three-tiered cake because they couldn\u2019t agree on flavors, a bounce house, a magician, and enough streamers to decorate the whole house. I\u2019d spent the week hanging banners and blowing up balloons, and Karen had come over to bake three different cake layers \u2014 chocolate for Olivia, vanilla for Emma, and strawberry for Ava.<\/p>\n
The day was perfect. The sun was warm but not too hot, and the backyard was full of kids from their class and neighbors we\u2019d known for years. The magician pulled a rabbit out of a hat and the girls squealed with delight. The bounce house was practically vibrating with the energy of ten-year-olds. I stood by the grill, flipping burgers and watching them, and for the first time in a long time, I felt something close to peace.<\/p>\n
When it was time for cake, we all gathered around. The girls wore matching tiaras that Linda had bought them, and their smiles were so big they could\u2019ve lit up the whole town. I lit the candles and we sang \u2018Happy Birthday\u2019 at the top of our lungs. They made three separate wishes, and I closed my eyes and made one too \u2014 the same one I\u2019d made every year since they were born: that their mother could somehow see them, somehow know how amazing they were.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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