16 years ago today at nearly this very hour I was teaching ballet. I know because tomorrow is my daughter’s 16th birthday and I taught the day I was scheduled to deliver.

I still have the ballet skirt I wore when I was pregnant with her and I remember wearing it one day and saying to her father, “Wow, with this skirt on you can barely tell that I pregnant!” and him saying as deadpan as ever, “Yeah you can.”

Which brings me to the subject of this blog; I’ve lost the sharer of so many memories and today is one of those times where the loss is very strong.

Tomorrow we will sing and eat cake and I will share the story of my youngest’s birth with her and her sister all the while thinking that their father should be here correcting me, corroborating and laughing that raspy laugh of his when I recall the part where I cursed so loudly and strongly the nurses pleaded with me to stop because I was scaring the other mothers.

While the physical loss is hard for all of us the emotional connection we lost, the emotional connection I lost is the hardest to bear.

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