"Babies are a link between angels and man."- Author Unknown

Chloe had woken up exceptionally early on that morning in July. Her emotions were in direct conflict with each other. It was her baby's first birthday, and although she was excited she couldn't help but feel a little sad. He already had a whole year under his belt. What was next- college?! She stopped herself and calmed herself down. There was no need to think about that yet. She washed the dishes she had left in the sink the night before. She knew she wanted some busywork to occupy her this morning.

She had stayed up late into the night, mind turning over the day to come. She wished Cortland were here to help her through this. She had hoped that he would visit her dreams, but her sleep had been inky and restless. She looked more worn out than her fifteen year old pair of sweatpants.

She sighed as she finished drying off the last dish and started putting them away in the cupboards, being careful to remain quiet. She didn't want to wake Bryce up. After she finished that she rummaged around the refrigerator until she found jars of Bryce's favorite baby food- strawberry and bananas. He loved fruit, so she knew she just had to make it a part of his birthday breakfast. She cleaned off his high chair and wiped down the counters to ensure maximum cleanliness. She could not afford to get sick today or any other day. Plus, since the birth of her bouncing baby boy she hadn't had much time for housework. However, she knew she had to fix that quickly. Her little munchkin had begun crawling a few months ago, so naturally she was terrified of him putting something dirty into his mouth.

She knew she was being outrageous, but what other choice did she have? Bryce was her responsibility and she didn't take that lightly. She started mopping the floor and then swept up in the other room while she waited for the kitchen floor to dry. She could see the sun streaming through the windows that she'd cleaned last night. She had been trying to fall asleep but it was a futile effort, so she had started cleaning in an attempt to soothe herself. It had worked.

After doing the floors she dusted the house completely before deciding that she had cleaned enough for one day. After putting all of her supplies away she glanced at the clock- it was eight in the morning. Her son would be up in an hour. She used the remaining time to make herself scrambled eggs and some toast while she let her mind wander until she wasn't thinking in words- only in colors and images that passed by so quickly that she couldn't get an impression on them. Perhaps this was her minds way of forcing her not to brood over the one piece of darkness that clouded her otherwise perfect world- life without Cortland.

She tried as best she could not to dwell on it, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. On days like these all she wanted was to be swept into his arms and bury her face into his chest. She loved him- irrevocably, intensely, and indelibly. Every beat of her heart was a moment longer away from him. It hurt- so badly did it hurt, but each moment she grew stronger. She lived on to carry his name. She would never give him up. Ever. She kept every letter he'd sent her, and on days when her longing for him grew too great, she read those letters, and even smelled them- in hopes of catching even the faintest whiff of him. He had always slept with his notepad near him so that she could smell him.

Today she pulled that box of letters out from under her bed and read them all over again, appreciating the curve of the letters he wrote and savoring every word he had penciled down to her. She had known a love that had made her use every part of her body, mind, and soul. In that way, she was no ordinary woman. It made her feel special even after he had passed.

A few minutes went by after she read the last letter. The hurt still stung as if it were only yesterday. She boxed them up and sighed before putting them back under the bed.

It was at that moment that Bryce woke up.

She smiled and raced to his room to see him standing up in his crib.

Putting down the side of the crib, she picked up her son and cuddled him happily.

"Happy birthday, baby boy!" She crooned. Bryce squealed in delight.

"Mama." He cooed. He had just started speaking the word regularly as of last month.

"Mommy loves you." She kissed his forehead.

She walked into her room and showed him a picture of Cortland. She showed it to him every morning. He had just started making the connection.

He pointed at the picture. "Dada."

"Yes, that's Daddy. He would be so proud of you." She whispered.

She went to the kitchen and started making a bottle for him. After testing it on her wrist she sat on the couch and started feeding him. She always gave him his bottle before his baby food. It was her way of keeping him a baby, she supposed.

She cuddled him, and once he finished his bottle she fed him his baby food.

Today she wanted to give him the most fun day possible, but she had a stop to make first.

It was a bright morning that July when she drove down the familiar path to the cemetery. She carried Bryce in her arms and sat down at Cortland's headstone, where she sang "Happy Birthday" to her son. She thought it only right to have both parents there for his first birthday.

After spending an hour talking to Cortland and telling him all about their son, she took Bryce home and made an effort to make this first of many birthdays as memorable as she could.

She gave him a new present every hour, and after a dinner of his favorite Spaghetti, she stripped him down to his diaper before giving him a frosted cupcake. After blowing out the candle, she took the wrapper off before letting him dig in, recording every precious moment with a video camera she'd purchased a few weeks before he was due. She'd captured every great stride in his development on that tape, and this huge milestone was no exception.

She was so proud of her son. He was Cortland's last gift to her, but what a gift he was. He was everything she had ever wished for. God had blessed her with a son, and she was so proud of how he was growing up.

She gave him a much needed bath before holding him in her arms and rocking him. Just before he fell asleep, she read aloud to him one of the most special writings ever to be written in his parents' shared history.

It was short, but to the point.

Dear Son,

I hope that this first year of life was one that passed with love. I will always be watching over you and your mother. Look up at the stars and there I'll be.

Love,
Dad

She put her son to bed, then read the letter several times before putting it back in the box. She laid on her bed, happy and exhausted at the same time.

Nothing had been as turbulent as the past year of her life, but nothing had also never been as rewarding.