Sunday, September 9, 2018

Born on 9-11


My granddaughter, Kylie was born on 9-11.
This year, she turns eleven on the eleventh. They call that, her golden birthday.
Her dad wants to make it special, so he planned a big celebration.
The nurses and aids that help with her care, Team Kylie, will all be there. And of course, family and friends from far and wide wouldn’t miss it for the world.
I suppose, lots of parents plan big parties for golden birthdays…only with Kylie, the party isn’t so much a celebration for her, but more a celebration of her.
She won’t enjoy the festivities like the other kids.
She won’t hop in the sack race, sword fight like a pirate, create a treasure chest or play laser-tag. She’ll sit in her wheelchair without a word. She’ll watch. Only God knows what she’ll think.
Nevertheless, she’ll be the center of attention; the reason for it all.
With someone guiding her little hands, she’ll be the first to take a crack at the mermaid piƱata
Her treasure chest will be the biggest of them all.  
Even though she won’t be able to take one single bite, she’ll have a birthday cake of her own. Her hands will be placed on top of the cake, she’ll feel the frosting between her fingers. Her daddy will stand near and Cheyanne from Team Kylie will help the birthday girl wipe her cake filled hands across her daddy’s face…and Kylie will smile.
 In that moment, if you’re not watching, you’ll miss it, but that moment, is what makes it all worthwhile.
Kylie will smile.
Everyone watching will laugh and then gasp, and then all at once they’ll say, “Did you see her smile?” and in that moment, if you listen real close, I’m pretty sure, you’ll be able to hear the angels sing.
All the long hours, setting up tents and hanging decorations, all the planning and buying of gifts and games for other kids; eleven years of sleepless nights, ambulance rides and hospital visits, all will fade when compared to that one moment, when Kylie smiles.
For Daddy it’s worth it all, to see that glow; to know in that instant, she’s not in pain, she’s not struggling to breath and the seizures are at bay.
 In that eternal moment, when she smiles, Daddy will imagine, that his little girl, if she could, would giggle, hug his neck and say, “Thank you Daddy, I love you.”
He can only imagine, because, she’s never done it before, and as far as we know, this side of heaven, she never will.
So, in that moment, Daddy will smile, let out a small little laugh, that sounds all at once, happy and sad, and…exhausted. He’ll swipe at the cake smeared across his face, turn his head so no one can see, and wipe at the shine in his eyes.

Before it all takes place, I’ll stand in the birthday card isle.
I’ll search long and hard for a granddaughter card that celebrates who they are, not just what they do.
I’ll have to explain to the lady next to me, my sniffling nose and watery eyes, when I read a card that says:
“There are certain people we thank, in our prayers, for things we appreciate so,
but try as we may, we just can’t say, the words we want them to know”

 Suddenly, I see sweet Kylie; in this world, but not of it. Precious Kylie, who the world views as disabled, but healthier than us all, in the realm of heaven. Unable to communicate with her earthly daddy, but perfectly, with her Heavenly Father. Kylie, of whom, this world is not worthy. I see Kylie, pen through her Father, this note to her Daddy.
Daddy,
I know I’m not like most kids.
There are words, to you, I cannot say.
I can’t run, or jump, or play.
But Daddy, there’s one thing I can do
Actually, I do it better than most.
I can pray.
Right now, I can’t talk to you so well, but I can talk to God real good.
I wish you could hear, my words are so clear.
 God understands every single word I say.
We talk about lots of things, but, most of all, Daddy…my favorite subject is you.
I ask Him to take care of you, and to bless you for being such a good daddy.
He always smiles and says, “Okay.”
I always smile too, right then, and giggle, because, I know God always keeps His promises.
And I know He loves me, a lot, because He takes good care of me…
by giving me, you.

Thank you, Daddy, I love you.
Forever & ever,
Kylie 

p.s.   I can't wait to give you a big hug...like the ones you give me.



1 comment:

Rhonda said...

Doug, this is one of my most favorite-ist posts ever, and I have loved a lot of them. What love is expressed through your words for your beautiful granddaughter and I can only imagine the smile on her Heavenly Father's face as well. Thank you!