This would have been Katie’s 39th Birthday. It seems so strange to me when I think about it because when I see her in my mind, she is forever six years old.
But I wanted to remember her, on this special day. For her birth was one of the happiest days of my life. I miss her so much, and I think I always will. I can still hear her voice, and see her bright shining smile.
So Happy Birthday, my little Angel. I miss you, and love you, and think of you every moment of every day.
11/8/78 – 6/19/85
I had a lovely daughter, named Kathleen “Katie” Alynne. She was my youngest daughter and quite amazing. She was six and a half when an impaired (stoned) driver, hit my car and killed her. She actually lived until June 19th, but she never regained consciousness after they pulled her from the car. So in my mind and my heart, the 13th is the day that she left us.
You never get over losing a child. But you learn to go on, and to make a new life for yourself. But on days like today, I like to remind everyone that once long ago, lived a beautiful little girl named Katie!
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This is so beautiful. I was crying by the second line, Written by Henry Scott Holland (27 January 1847 – 17 March 1918) was Regius Professor of Divinity at the University of Oxford.
I miss you each day, Katie.
In Memory of Katie from Dackel Princess Maribeth on Vimeo.
Katie Alynne November 8, 1978 – June 13, 1985 from Dackel Princess Maribeth on Vimeo.
This would have been Katie’s 38th Birthday. It seems so strange to me when I think about it because when I see her in my mind, she is forever six years old.
But I wanted to remember her, on this special day. For her birth was one of the most special days of my life.
So Happy Birthday, my little Angel. I miss you, and love you, and think of you always.
Katie's 37th Birthday from Dackel Princess Maribeth on Vimeo.
We had gone to Rose Farm to pick apples and press cider, back in the summer of 1984. My sister and her family were with us. Before any of us knew it, Katie had climbed way up in the apple tree and we quickly took a picture.
In later years I came to live at Rose Farm. By then I was divorced from my former husband, and had married Hubby, who was the owner of the farm. I loved it there. Acre upon acre of beautiful apple trees.
It’s been 31 years since the car accident that took my youngest daughter’s life. (You can read about the accident here.)
Kathleen Alynne
Katie would be all grown up now, 37 years old! Even after all this time, the shock and pain of her loss is palpable. And really, there is no way to explain it. Somehow Mandy, Bob and I, have managed to go on, and yet for the rest of our lives, there will always be a spot, a bright star, in our lives, that is missing.
We never got to see her grow up, fall in love, graduate from school, or hold her baby in her arms. She was robbed, and so were we.
This year, the thirty-first anniversary of her passing, finds me missing her, but also very grateful for those six and a half wonderful years that we all shared with her.
I choose to live in the present now. I allow myself two days a year (the anniversary of the accident and Katie’s birthday) to remember, to grieve and to wallow a bit, but it is hard.
She had the most beautiful red curls and dancing green eyes and a little voice that made one think of Leprechauns. She wasn’t perfect, but she was special and sweet and she was my daughter.
The accident forever changed me, but from the ashes of my previous life, like a Phoenix, I have risen to make a good, happy life in the present.
But I just never forget that time, those events…
…or that wonderful little girl.
In Memory of Katie from Dackel Princess Maribeth on Vimeo.
I think when you lose a child, as we lost Katie, birthdays can be somewhat melancholy. I remember the day she was born as being one of the happiest days in my life. And each year, I think on that day and smile. But Katie is gone. She’s been gone for thirty years. The last birthday we celebrated together was her 6th birthday. I will never forget that day, and even after all these years, I miss her in a way that only another parent who has lost their child can understand. You go on. You live your life, but the sadness is always there.
Happy Birthday, my darling daughter, Kathleen. I love you still and you are forever in my heart!
Since we are in the midst of Apple Season, I thought I would put up this picture of Katie, way back when we picked apples at Rose Farm. She was such a little monkey, and up the tree she went! I’ve always loved this picture.
It’s been 30 years since the car accident that took my youngest daughter’s life. (You can read about the accident HERE. )
Kathleen Alynne
Katie would be all grown up now, 36 years old! Even after all this time, the shock and pain of her loss is unbelievable. And really, there is no way to explain it. Somehow Mandy, Bob and I, managed to go on, and yet for the rest of our lives, there will always be a spot, a bright star, in our lives, that is missing.
We never got to see her grow up, fall in love, graduate from school, or hold her baby in her arms. She was robbed, and so were we.
This year, the thirtieth anniversary of her passing, I will try to be happy. Happy for those six and a half wonderful years that we all shared with her. After all, she was really an amazing and greatly loved little girl!
In Memory of Katie from Dackel Princess Maribeth on Vimeo.
In Memory of Katie from Dackel Princess Maribeth on Vimeo.
“Do not judge the bereaved mother. She comes in many forms. She is breathing, but she is dying. She may look young, but inside she has become ancient. She smiles, but her heart sobs. She walks, she talks, she cooks, she cleans, she works, she IS, but she IS NOT, all at once. She is here, but part of her is elsewhere for eternity.”
