Happy Birthday, Fran.

Tomorrow would have been my friend Fran's 63rd birthday.

Would have been. Happy Birthday anyway, Fran... and I hope you can hear me. You've been on my mind for days, as you always are when your birthday has come around.

Fran passed away in 2011, just two weeks before the birth of her first grandchild, which was a little girl. After raising two boys, Fran would have loved a little baby girl... the daughter of her oldest son and his beautiful wife.

My husband and I flew up to New York when Fran's granddaughter was a few months old...  such a darling beautiful little girl.  Fran's son put her in my arms and I held her for hours and hours, just listening to her soft little sounds and watching her sleeping and eating and smiling.  I just couldn't put the baby girl down..... it was as if I were holding the baby not just for myself, but for Fran also.  And tears came to my eyes on that day because when Fran's son was hours old, I had held him in my arms as well.

Before the baby girl was born, and before Fran lost her voice for the last time, we talked over the phone about the coming baby-bundle. Fran was hoping that her grandchild would grow up loving books, loving to learn, and wanting to find out everything she could about the world she would soon be joining.  Fran said that parents and grandparents make sure their children have toys and games, but only book-loving parents and grandparents will start a library of books for the new babies. Fran wanted her grand-baby to have books, books, books.

I've been buying books for Fran's grandchild since before she was born... sending them up to her for holidays and birthdays.  Fran's son tells me that his daughter loves all of her books, and he sends me photos of his little girl as she opens up the packages I send her.  That tiny little baby girl just celebrated her third birthday last month.... she can recognize her name now on the packages and she knows when "Aunt Larrie" has sent more books.

So today, on this day before Fran's birthday..... I'm trying not to feel sad over her loss.  I realize that the loss of my friend is nothing compared to the loss suffered by her husband and her sons, her brother, her daughter-in-law and her granddaughter.

I have a picture of myself and Fran, taken at our wedding dinner after my husband and I got married in 1995.  Fran is healthy and vibrant, beautiful and lively..... her voice was music, her personality was enthusiastic and exciting.  That photo was always in our wedding album, but when Fran passed away, I took it out of the album and put it in a small frame on my dresser.  I see it every day, every day.  I don't want to forget Fran..... I don't want to forget how she looked at her best, how her voice sounded, how her eyes truly sparkled when she was happy.

Fran and I have a long history together..... beginning at the end of high school... continuing on in our early 20s.... through our 30s and 40s and 50s.  We knew nearly everything about each other, the good and the not-so-good, the happy and the sad.  Fran died just before her 60th birthday. Much, much too young for such a wonderful life to end.  When I turned 60 the following year, I wanted so much to talk to Fran about this 60th decade.... but she was already gone.

In my darkest of moments, Fran was there for me, with a cup of tea and "a good chat" (as she called our discussions) at her kitchen table. We sat there for hours and hours, talking and crying and laughing, letting the tea get cold.

Happy Birthday, Fran.  I miss you, and probably always will.  I have tried so hard not to forget your voice, but I have to admit that sometimes I can't remember the exact sound of it. But I do remember your friendship, your patience, your kindness, your understanding, your fairness. I wish we could have added this 60th decade to our history together.

I hope you're still out there somewhere, Fran, watching your grand-baby girl reading her books and enjoying her especially wonderful family.