Normally I would already have the dining room set up with the items for the birthday party. The chargers, napkins, tablecloth, silver, and serving pieces. The gorgeous invitations would have been mailed six weeks in advance and our friend Tracy (the best bartender in NC) would have been booked. All of your friends, my friends and Ford's friends would be invited because they are my village. An over the top cake would be secured and a dress pressed and laid out to coordinate with the theme. Fresh pine straw would be laid in the yard and the house would be clean as a whistle. Custom cookies to enhance the party's theme would be baked by a dear friend and the house would be spotless. A playlist heavy on Van Morrison would be created along with flower arrangements to make Martha swoon. It would be a perfect two year old's birthday party.
But my mother won't be here. She doesn't even know Amelie. Nor does she have any concept of what time of year it is, much less that it is someone's special day. And my Aunt, who has gifted me the 8 pieces of family silver I own, and who was quite the hostess herself, is gone. And my heart is broken.
So this year it will probably be just you and me. The two of us blowing out a candle on a cupcake while you have your sippy cup of milk and me with my wine. I'll still put you in your party dress and still put fresh flowers around the house. Dad and Ford will be at movie night at his school, something that he swore he could NOT miss. So it will just be us girls. And the large gaping hole of the women in my life that I miss. I wish you could know them. I wish you could have experienced holidays or birthdays with BB, and the impeccable magazine worthy gorgeous home Aunt Kathleen kept.
They both are now fairy tales I will tell you as you drift off into toddler sleep.
I love you Amelie Ambrose Fuchs.