Remembering Their Day

There is a date on the calendar that the world no longer recognizes—but their parent never forgets.

The birthday of the child they lost.

It arrives quietly each year, without the noise and chaos that once felt so ordinary. To everyone else, it is just another day. But to a grieving parent, it is sacred. It is the day the world changed forever—the day they entered it, and unknowingly, reshaped their parents’ lives.

They still wake up with the same thought: This is their day.

And for a moment, before reality settles in, they let themselves imagine what it would be like if their child was still here. How old would they be? What their voice might sound like now. The things they’d be interested in now, the friends they’d bring home, the cake they’d insist on having.

Instead, the day looks different.

It is quieter. Softer. Heavier.

Their parents celebrate them in ways the world might not notice. They say their name out loud, because it deserves to be heard. They look through old photos, and revisit the memories they had—no matter how brief—and hold them as tightly as they can.

There are tears, of course. There always are. Grief has a way of showing up uninvited, especially on days that matter most. But there is something else, too—something unexpected—gratitude.

Not the easy kind. Not the kind that erases the pain. But the kind that exists alongside it. The kind that whispers, *They were here. They are mine. And that will never change.

Their birthday is not just a reminder of loss. It is a reminder of love—fierce, unwavering, and infinite. It is proof that even though their life was cut too short, it was still meaningful. Still powerful. Still enough to leave a mark that time cannot touch.

It is our hope they know that they are remembered, not just today, but every day. That their life, no matter how short, continues to impact not just us, but so many others. We all strive to “Be a Cooper” or “Live Like Bodee Did” forever and always.