Nick's Birthday Present

Every time I see these pictures, I'm struck by the contrast between the life and energy in the pictures and the date stamp on them.  These pictures were taken at Joie's 8th birthday party, 10 days before she lost her family.  It was a salon party where all the girls got up-do's, then played some games.

Pin the Tail on the Donkey

Nick helping Audrey find the donkey.

I love how Nick doesn't just look like he's being a good sport.  He's enjoying himself.  He loved his girls.  They were his world.  They had no idea that their time together would soon come to an end.

Today Nick would have been 33 years old.  As our morning unfolded, Joie hadn't thought about it, and in the morning rush I forgot to tell her.  She's been sick for the past two days with strep, so it was a slow morning for her.  She was distracted trying to pick out what she wanted to wear to the jr. high back-to-school dance this afternoon, and not focusing on packing her lunch, eating breakfast, and getting ready for school.  

I tried to be patient about redirecting her, but it was my turn to drive carpool and we couldn't leave late, so frustration was winning out.  She still didn't get my hints, and instead started whining and picking on Gabby.

And she still wasn't ready for school!  Five minutes before walking out the door, I was helping her throw together a lunch and said, "I'm sorry, but if you can't get yourself ready for school, you can't go to the dance!"  (Big of me, I know...pushing her buttons.)

Somehow we managed to have family prayer and pull out of the driveway on time.  The other kids were in a different carpool and I was alone with Joie.  A calmer mood was settling over us and the things I thought I wanted to say to her didn't matter so much anymore.  It was in that moment of calm I remembered to tell her today was her dad's birthday.

I know you think this might be headed for a tender, emotional ending, but no.  Think desperate 12 year old wanting to go to a school dance.  We always celebrate, so that's exactly where her brain went, and not even 10 seconds after I told her it was her dad's birthday she said, "I can celebrate by going to my first school dance!"  

I laughed, but didn't answer.  A few minutes later when the carpool kids were climbing out of the car, she stood at the door and looked at me with her big blue eyes, and said, "Please can I tell my friends I can go to the dance?"  

In that moment, Nick was there.  I don't know how I knew, but there are times I just know, and right there in the carpool lane, I felt in my heart the way he used to describe feeling when he'd give in to her "puppy dog eyes."  I felt a smile spread across my face and heard myself say "yes."  She had turned around and was celebrating with friends and didn't see the tears start to form in my eyes.  It was another one of those moments when I was happy for her, and painfully aware at the same time that I was here enjoying this moment with her because they weren't.  

The same tears threatened to spill from my eyes later that afternoon when she was getting ready and asked me what to do if a boy asks her to slow dance.  (I knew the school policy enough to feel safe on that one.)

So Nick, I guess this year Joie got what she wanted for your birthday.  (And thanks for the nudge.  It was one of those moments I needed to take my parenting job a lot less seriously.)

Sidenote:  Ten days until Tim comes home!