I didn't really want to turn sixteen. Sure, I was excited to start driving and having a bit of that so-called "freedom" my soul has always fought for, but I wasn't particularly joyful about my birthday that sixteenth year of my life. Most of it had to do with the fact that it was only a few months after Zach happened, and turning a year older meant that time was moving right along, that I wasn't frozen in age with him.
You gave me a gift that birthday that spoke volumes to me then and still does eleven years later. Do you remember? You gave me a James Avery keychain that I kept with me for years and a letter that filled my soul with a kind of reassurance and warmth that I didn't know I needed. I felt loved and protected by you in that moment and in the moments since.
There's always a bright smile on your face, a look of a little bit of mischief going on behind those eyes and I can hear your giggle and laugh from over here. Thank you for being there always, whether up close with innocent gifts that spoke volumes or simply by being a presence always nearby.
Thank you & I love you.