Celebrate

Today is Henry's birthday. Big H, Noo-nah, King Henry, and, sometimes, unfortunately, just plain ol' Hen (but never Hank), turned four today. This morning, while in the shower, I had a great idea for a poem. I know. Apparently, I only feel moved to rhyme or write in stanzas during the month of January.

Oh, it was going to be fun. Four (his new age) was going to rhyme with more, or galore, or Jersey Shore (kidding. I've never even watched the show. I only know about it because it seems to be mentioned everywhere. They only thing I know about it is that one guy has spiky hair). I had more rhymes than that but none are coming to mind right this minute. But, believe me, it was going to be a cute poem.

Two days ago, however, a monkey wrench got thrown into the entire day. On Monday, a man in my ward passed away and I was asked to bring food as well as sing in a trio at the funeral. Because I didn't know the deceased very well, and because the funeral happened to fall right in the middle of some planned birthday festivities, not to mention there being a plethora of more fun ways I wanted to spend the day, I really wanted to say, "No. Sorry."

But I didn't.

Because I can't.

Turns out, my inability to say, "No" was a good thing today.

I never imagined attending a funeral, while simultaneously celebrating a four year-old's birthday, could be so poignant. While my mind was busy creating rhymes throughout our morning of looking at a house for-sale (liked it), taking Henry to speech therapy, and even throughout his chaotic and unorganized party at McDonald's, sitting in the chapel for an hour, and feeling the spirit as the man's children bore powerful testimony about the Atonement, and eternal life, and the Plan of Salvation, helped me realized that this funeral was a celebration too.

Of Life.

We are born. We turn four. We turn thirty-four. Some may even turn seventy....eighty....ninety-four.

And, then, we die.

That is really only sad when what happens after death is a mystery.  Today, I celebrate Henry's existence - his life - his adorable little body - his mischievous grin.  I love him.

I don't know what tomorrow brings, but I do know, because the spirit witnessed to me again today, that death is not the end.  We are eternal and because of Christ, our broken bodies will be reunited with our spirits and what we celebrate here on Earth will be our everlasting existence.

Happy Birth-day, Henry.

Happy Life, Henry.

Happy You!!!

P.S. I am aware that Henry's cake might possibly be the ugliest cake ever made. Jay was kind and said it was merely in the top three. It was a very, very bad gluten-free food day. Thankfully, my kids don't care and it tasted just fine.