Dear Child, 15th Birthday

Dear Child,

Today is your birthday. It’s your first birthday since the accident. Fourteen years we celebrated with you, conscious. Always a happy child, on your birthday, you seemed to achieve another level of joy. It was infectious.

Your mother and I expected your fifteenth birthday to be different. Honestly, we joked, “This is the year she rejects us.” You are a teenager and we expected you to start to pull away from our parenting.

On each one of your birthdays, we discussed without your knowledge, how our parenting was going. We considered new things we should be doing as you became a young woman. We reluctantly let go of some of my favorite things years ago.

You know, when you turned seven, we decided that you shouldn’t fall asleep on my chest any longer. A young woman should remember the security of her father’s love, but there also comes a time when the ways in which we express affection must change. The barriers of acceptable socialization take shape with each year.

Your mother and I compromised just a bit. We still allowed you to join us in bed when you felt scared or upset. We stopped that at eight. You took both changes in stride, with a shrug. I took the change with greater difficulty. I didn’t want to lose my little girl.

Your mother won’t be joining us for your birthday celebration this year. We had a big fight about our parenting role this year. She insisted, though I don’t agree, that we must let you go. For the sake of our marriage, but also for you.

You haven’t yet returned to us. While I could wait forever, your mother says you must be suffering somewhere, somehow, because you have not found your way back to us. My belief in miracles has not sustained her faith for your return. In fact, she has stopped going to church, while I do more often.

For this birthday, I have arranged three days of bedside prayers. Not just during the day, but also throughout the night. Twenty-four hours non-stop for the next three days. Your friends and a few adults from church were happy to be asked to join in this quest.

After the next three days, if you have not returned, at your mother’s demand we begin end-stage palliative care. It’s inhumane in my opinion, but your mother…