The person who sent it to me added a cheeky emoji.
[Don’t misunderstand, Mr. Carter. They’re just changing a dressing.]
I replied calmly, [I won’t.]
Whatever they were doing, it didn’t matter. They would be going to Africa together soon enough.
On the seventh day after my children passed, I decorated the house entirely in a Disney princess theme.
That had been their biggest dream once: To go to Disneyland as a family of four.
If they could spend their birthday there, it would’ve been perfect.
So this year, I made sure they could. Even if it was just in spirit.
But every time I brought it up, Irene would snap at me, “I already have to do dozens of surgeries a day — I’m exhausted. How could I have time to waste going on trips with you all?”
She always said she was too busy to take the children to Disneyland.
But just because Henry said he wanted to go, she skipped work and spent an entire day at Disneyland with him.
My children came into this world with such difficulty. They never got to visit Disneyland. So at the very least, they deserved one birthday party they would’ve loved.
Eyes red with grief, I sat before their urns and sang Happy Birthday over and over again.
Then the phone rang.