Happy Birthday, Lauren

Happy birthday, my sweet love. We miss you every day, but you are always in our hearts and on our minds. Our Lauren would be 32 today.

That dreaded day

We both knew it would come, but we dreaded it just the same. We knew that one day, we would need to clean out Lauren's room. Our son is married now and has his own home. One day, we will need to have those bedrooms for grandchildren who come to visit.

So we set out last weekend, with the help of our son, to begin that process. We have cried, we have laughed, we have remembered and we have rejoiced. Instead of making us miserable, it has really helped us to rediscover our daughter, and keep her memory where it should be and always will be at all times- in our hearts.

Lauren was a real girly girl. She had more fingernail polish, makeup, hairbows, costume jewelry, purses, shoes and photos than even I remembered. The dominant themes in her room were stars and butterflies. She loved Tinkerbell and Blink 182. She was a big fan of the Godfather movies (her Italian heritage that she really loved), Harry Potter, The Chronicles of Narnia and the Beatles.  She inherited her love for the Beatles from her mom (just like her brother did). She had a million little notes (texting was in its infancy then) from her friends in a little treasure chest. She had prom dresses and school dance dresses. We carefully placed the most important things in bins and sealed them up for safety. We, of course, are nowhere near being through, but we are beginning to see daylight. 

Among all her treasures were some things that gave us great joy and brought us a sense of peace. She had three Bibles among her treasures. Two were teen study Bibles that she had gotten along the way, and one was pretty dog-eared. She had her prayer cards, rosaries and her scapular (which I think came from our friends Bill and Janet Cupo) in her treasures. She loved her Lord and her Catholic faith. 

I jokingly said she might have been a candidate for the show "Hoarders." Of course that's not entirely true, but to us, this is a daunting task. We have given some things to charity. There are things that hold no sentimental value, and we have given them away. 

Whatever we end up doing with her room, we plan to leave some of her things in there as reminders of her. It will always be her room, but as my sweet friend Dawn said, its the natural progression of things- if she were still here, she would have cleaned up her own room and put things away, as our son did when he left home. 

Now her things are put away for her future nieces and nephews to one day enjoy. They will discover their aunt through stories, photos and memories shared by their grandparents and their dad. 

That dreaded day of beginning a painful task has come and gone, and we are able now to handle it a little better. 

My summer of butterflies

Lauren loved this song by Deborah Cox called “Nobody’s Supposed to be Here.” She had the CD single and played it every time we were in the car together. First the slow ballad, then the dance mix.

One line said, “Knowing these tears I’ve cried, This lovely black butterfly must take a chance and spread my wings. Love can make you do some crazy things.” Almost every time, she would ask the same question. “Mama, have you ever seen a black butterfly?” I would say that I had seen them with blue and white tipped wings, but just rarely. Now, Lauren loved black. She always wanted to buy black shirts, pants, skirts, shoes, purses and anything else she could get her hands on. We almost had to force her to wear any other color. I think that is why she was mystified by the prospect of a black butterfly.

The week she died, it seemed as though hundreds of people came to our house to pay their respects, offer support, bring food and just grieve with us. I often think how hard it must have been to have to come and visit us, shell-shocked as we were.

We were walking someone out one of those horrible days, and this person happened to live nearby the place where her accident happened. They started to tell us about what had happened from their perspective that morning. It was something I did not care to hear, so I began to “tune it out.” I said a silent prayer, and just at that moment, I saw a black butterfly with blue-tipped wings come from the woods next door. It fluttered above our heads and lit right under Lauren’s window. My heart was so full, I began to smile and cry at the same time. I excused myself and went inside.

Thoroughly confused and amazed by what I had seen, I began to wonder if Lauren had sent the butterfly to comfort me. No one knew about the butterflies except Lauren and me. My husband came in and innocently asked, “Did you see that butterfly?” I began to cry again, of course. I told him about the butterfly and Lauren. He could not believe it.

Then I remembered: “And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth, which the world cannot accept, because it neither sees nor knows it. But you know it, because it remains with you, and will be in you. I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you. “ (John 14:16-18). In some translations, the word “Comforter” is used. I knew then that I was being comforted by my Lord.

That summer I saw what seemed like legions of black butterflies wherever I went.