When I was a little kid, my best friend lived down the street from me in a cul-de-sac. Her birthday was January 24th. We lost touch somewhere in Middle School I think, but I don't forget those easy-going days of riding our bikes and climbing trees through our neighborhood together.
When I was in high school, I had a friend whose birthday was January 24th also. He meant a lot to me, even after he started making poor decisions. And even now, though I denied his friend request on Facebook, I still think about him every year on January 24th. There is a part of me that will always hold him dear to my heart.
And now January 24th has a new meaning for me. January 24th was the day we made the decision to unplug Sadie's breathing tube and ask the nurses not to resuscitate. We were prepared to say goodbye. January 24th will always remind me of the hardest decision I ever had to make.
For some reason this day has just always been meaningful in my life.
Now, on this second anniversary of that horrible day when we cried and cried and thought we'd lose our baby, I have just one request of you.
When you kiss your children tonight, make it meaningful, take a moment to really reflect on how lucky you are to have them. Whether they're special needs or typical, whether they're healthy or not, whether or not you're busy doing other things, tell them you love them. And really mean it.