To most, today is an ordinary day.  Here in Minnesota, it was a beauty, almost 60 degrees, sunny, and had a spectacular sunset.

My day was pretty average.  I left for work before anyone else was awake, and had plenty of time to prepare for my day.  I had the date written on the board, the calendar ready to go, classroom supplies stocked, and I greeted my students more refreshed than I do on most Mondays.  After a five day weekend, it’s hard to complain.  We had a fun nonfiction reading lesson, the kids made posters to teach others about even and odd numbers, and had a tech lesson with their iPads.  All in all, it was a good day.  I picked my daughters up from daycare, chatted with their provider, took a few pics of them with their pals by the sunset, and came home.  Maizy has been asking for a pizza party, which just consists of eating pizza, and tonight her wish was granted.  Layla doesn’t love pizza, but she found some other morsels to enjoy.  Just another day.

Except it’s not.  It’s the due date of our twins.  I will admit that with each year that passes, it gets a little easier.  I haven’t even cried today.  Obviously, 2011 was the most difficult, and each year it does get easier, but it never really goes away.  I don’t write it on the calendar, or count the weeks or days until it’s here, but every year, I wake up with a sting in my throat filled with what might have been.  Had they lived, had they thrived, they would be celebrating their 6th birthday.

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of them.  I still talk to them often, and thank them for looking out for all of us, especially their sisters.  Today, we will celebrate their tiny existence, and the enormous piece of my heart that they will always hold.

Ordinary days, that’s what most of them seem like.  But every broken heart has a day, or many days, to remind the heart’s keeper of what was, what could have been, or what was hoped for.

I am at a really good place.  I will never understand why they weren’t here to stay, but Savannah and Charlie’s lives have helped me to appreciate every blessing, every moment, and every miracle a little more.  Tonight I’ll look at pictures, watch Maizy and Layla play, dance, and eat more junk food than they should.  When I tuck them in, I’ll kiss their grubby hands and chubby cheeks, and thank God for each of them, and I squeeze each of them a little tighter than normal.

And tomorrow, I will wake up to another day.  It will be somebody else’s day.  Their day to remember, to laugh, to cry, and to hug their loved ones a little tighter. I’ll try to remember when I see a grumpy old man in the grocery store, it might be his day.  When a lady flips me the bird for driving too slow in the fast lane, it’s probably her day.  I’ll try to remember to be understanding and kind, because most of us have some of these days.