Her mummy was almost 5 months pregnant with her when we were last in LA. At that time Kien was merely an idea; a concept that was comtemplated, but having a child seemed preposterous for fitting into our lifestyle. I was however happy for my friend of (now) 20 years. Her plans for a big family were well on the way.
I never knew this child, and yet I feel like I've known her, and when I held my baby through those first few months of his life I thought of her frequently. Her photo taken with her proud older brother is still on my fridge.
We visited her resting place on Sunday afternoon - the day we flew out of LA. We drank coffee and pomegranate juice, ate mini Oreos, chocolate and honey sticks.
We brought freshly cut flowers from home with the knowledge that wild deer will come through that evening and eat them.
That's OK, because her little brother already started munching on the petals that had been scattered during the trimming process.
Her younger brother is gorgeous, and I would have taken him home to NZ if only his parents didn't notice.
The kids delighted themselves with streams and streams of bubbles.
There was a spectacular cloud formation in the sky - with the sun's reflection concentrated in a particular area making the spot glow.
It was lovely to spend a small part of our last day there. I've now got new memories; of bubbles and flowers and babes giggling as they chased bubbles, and sun umbrellas caught by the breeze, and soft cheeks that beckons to be kissed a thousand times, and "smoothe" coffee, and Teddy Grahams, and mini Oreos being devoured, and and and...Some rocks her older brother Ethan brought for her.
I'm linking this post with some talented writers who have moved me with their lyrical offerings.