After

It was my seventh birthday party, mother had everything planned, decorations were in the dining room, invitations sent out, balloons; and on February 1- I was going to have a party with all my friends, I will never know why mother did not just cancel that party but she didn't. I was so excited all of January and always trying on my dress, but at the party- I sat at the head of the table, quiet and frozen; I remember all the kids with their hats and playing with balloons, the cake was in front of me, the candles lit, but I was just sitting there. Someone took a picture of me- my mother and grandma behind, and they were weeping, but not because it was my birthday . . . for Susan; you see we buried her the day before, she had died January 29th, she was buried in a peaceful spot beneath a leaning maple tree. After the party . . . I told my mother that I never wanted another birthday party, and mother said, we can change the date of your birthday; but I refused- it is my destiny to have this day reserved for Susan, and I have never celebrated another birthday- never will. You see, I watched Susan die and something broke inside me. ___________________________________ June 23, 2019 Poetry/Narrative/Adter Copyright Protected, ID 19-1198-589-02 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym. Submitted to FGI Blog Series - Narrative Brian Strand Podium Place 2