Sometimes you just gotta put your head down and move forward. I have danced around this post for the last two months wishing that I, that my family, wouldn’t have to face this day. But today is here and rather than spend it in bed with ivory-colored, 100 percent, 600-thread count cotton sheets pulled up over my head, I am going to celebrate Alice’s birthday with the same tenacity in which she lived her life.
I’d be lying if I said there haven’t been tears these last nine months – there have been; in fact, if tears could water my lawn, we wouldn’t be experiencing a drought. So yes, there have been buckets of tears. And the ache of missing someone so intensely I can feel her presence in the middle of the night or feel her standing alongside in the kitchen while I roll out pizza dough or when I open the door to the upstairs bedroom that was decorated in pink and purple polka-dots for a 9-year-old girl. The essence of Alice has been, and still is, in all of these places in our home. So while there is tremendous sadness of not having her here, I find myself deeply grateful. 
Grateful for a dark-haired, dark-eyed little 4-year-old girl who bounced into our lives more than 16 years ago full of life, full of energy, full of orneriness, full of joy. And while Alice could be vexing and contrary on some of her worst days, she also loved her nieces and nephews deeply – her brother, dad, mama and her boyfriend even more. She knew how to wrap everyone around her little finger, batting those long eyelashes and flashing a smile that made you forget you were angry at something she’d just done.
I am grateful for the memory of the little 6-year-old, skipping through the Walmart parking lot on a dark fall night, hair in pigtails, wearing a pink shirt, dark blue bib overalls and tennis shoes – singing at the top of her lungs, ‘This kiss, this kih-ih-ihss!’ – she loved Faith Hill and she didn’t give a hoot about the people who stopped and glared – ‘This kiss, this kih-ih-ihss!’ – she wailed from her tiny body. To this day, I cannot drive past a Walmart without that night swiftly flooding my memories – time stops and I’m watching her once again.
Alice shared my love for fancy sunglasses and I’d bought her a pair of Dior’s for her birthday last year; we would be seeing her in August so I didn’t get them 
mailed. And then I forgot to bring them with us on that trip. And those sunglasses were left sitting on our dining room table as a reminder to get them shipped. Then Alice was admitted to the hospital for what was to be the last time. I sent them to her mom so they could be delivered to the hospital and when Alice opened them, she said to her dad, ‘Take a picture of me and send it to Oma – I want her to know how much I love them!’ And this is the picture I’ve had on my phone wallpaper since that day. It makes me laugh at the girl being her goofy self, even while being hooked up to a machine that was breathing for her.
Death has removed Alice’s physical body – the ‘physical-ness’ of her – she is not here; but the essence of Alice, of who she was? The memories, the celebrations, the holidays, the experiences – death does not win – because the essence of Alice still shines bright. And nothing can ever take that from us, from me. This child was, and still is, deeply loved.
Today would have been her 21st birthday and if she were here I’d want to celebrate; she’d probably request a dinner out but I’d make dessert. I researched fancy birthday cakes, then cupcakes, ice cream or cheesecake – all of which she would have loved. But I decided on pie. A blueberry pie for a nearly 4th of July girl. And you simply can’t turn 21 and not have 
champagne – Alice loved pink so it’s pink champagne for the birthday girl.
Alice didn’t want a funeral, didn’t want people standing around crying – she wanted a big party, with friends, family, food, fun and games – and that’s exactly what she received. We set up a phone line so people could call in and leave messages; the family gathered old photos and video footage. The Professor and I are privileged to have the resources to pull all of that information together and create images that capture Alice’s life – we’re sharing it with you for the first time. The plan is to leave the video here for the next couple of weeks and then remove it. I’m not sure if I’ll re-post the video every birthday or not – I know there will be tears but it’s okay, she’s okay – I believe that will all my heart.
Happy Birthday Alice – you are loved!
GLUTEN-FREE BLUEBERRY PIE
Makes one 10-inch pie
NOTE: It is imperative that you keep the crust ice cold until you put it into your oven; my directions for placing the pie back and forth into the freezer may seem trivial or extra steps but you’ll be rewarded with a buttery, flaky crust! Additionally, you’ll need to make your crust a day ahead so plan accordingly.
INGREDIENTS:
- Pastry for 2-crust pie
- 4 cups fresh blueberries
- 1/2 cup sugar
- ½ cup gluten-free flour
- 1 teaspoon lemon zest – usually 1 lemon
- 1 teaspoon limoncello (can also sub pure vanilla extract)
- 1 teaspoon cinnamon
- pinch of salt
- 2 Tablespoons butter, cut into pieces
- 1 egg whisked with a teaspoon of water for egg wash
- Cinnamons-sugar for sprinkling on top crust
METHOD:
FOR THE CRUST:
- Roll out bottom crust and place into pie pan; place in refrigerator while making your filling
- Roll out top crust – keep in refrigerator until ready to place and then bake
FOR THE FILLING:
- In a large bowl add blueberries, sugar, flour mix, lemon zest, limoncello, salt
- Gently toss to coat the berries
- Remove pie plate from freezer and fill with berry mixture; back into freezer while rolling out second crust
- Once second crust is ready, remove filled pie plate and dot with bits of butter
- Lay top crust over berry mixture and tuck/press edges together until the entire pie is sealed
- Preheat oven to 450 degrees; while preheating oven, put pie back into the freezer to chill until oven is ready
- Remove pie from freezer, brush with egg wash and lightly sprinkle with cinnamon-sugar mixture
- Place entire pie on a sheet pan to catch any juice overflow – there will be overflow!
- Bake at 450 degrees for 15 minutes; reduce heat to 375 degrees and bake for an additional 45-50 minutes or until crust is a lovely golden brown and juice is oozing from your pie
- Enjoy every single bite – vanilla ice cream puts this one over the top!
Beautiful tribute that brings my brother to mind. We cried rivers at his funeral and then went home and ate and reminisced and laughed through more tears. And we still remember. His ghost lived with us for a couple of years but now seems to have disappeared, gone someplace better, I have to tell myself, which I find terribly sad but so be it. Life is like this and the living must push on, keeping the memory of loved ones alive to make it easier. Peace be with your family.
That was a beautiful tribute, Debra. And the video was so moving. Alice was one brave girl!
Sending you a great big hug!
I’ve been avoiding this post all week because I knew that words would fail me. All I can say is that I love you, what you wrote and your families strength. All my love {{hugs}}
I saw this post the other day, but didn’t have a chance to watch the video until this evening… It’s so beautiful, and a wonderful tribute to her. Sending you all of my love and prayers!
I had this post in my browser since yesterday, and I did not dare click on it, knowing that I would have to cry. And I did, along with you. Alice is just a few months older than my daughter, and watching her life in front of my eyes made my heart skip a few beats.
She seems so full of energy, so happy, and so cheerful, and the video you made celebrates her life more than anything else.
I am sending you a big, bear hug:)
What a great mental image I have of little Alice, belting out country in Wal-Mart. I’m so, so sorry for your loss. What a lovely way to celebrate her memory, though. Pie is perfect. We’re mourning the loss of a child too soon this week as well, the niece of a friend and a classmate of my son’s. There isn’t anything okay about children leaving this world before us. Sending much love your way to comfort your entire family.
When I was a young woman a friend of mine had cystic fibrosis and in so many ways she reminds me of your darling Alice. So full of life, so determined to live life to the very fullest despite the prediction of a limited future. After her passing I spent several years as a volunteer for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation and it was sad to see those that just gave up. So I’m grateful that Alice had the life she had and the people in it who loved her so dearly. She has left a lasting legacy.
Deb and Rod, I wish I were there to give you each big ole hugs. Such a beautiful tribute to sweet Alice and I know she would be so proud of it. Love you both so much!
Oh friend… that video. Wow.
Hugs to you and Rod and your family. This is something they will treasure forever. I can’t imagine the tears shed as you were creating this… you inspire me.
What a beautiful life……….sending you lots of love and prayers Deb!
Oh, Deb. Your love for Alice and her family’s love of her is so beautiful and raw. Wishing you love and peace on her birthday. I know she’s smiling down on you today.
Deb, this is the most beautiful tribute ever. I’m weeping right along with you, honey, as I watch that beautiful video.
xoxo
Oh Deb, what a beauty Alice was. I am so happy you did this. And I can’t stop crying…when her dad says he’d do it all over again. Go through all of it, again. And the picture of her with the sunglasses you sent. What a kid. What a kid.
Thank you for sharing her with us. Letting us know a little bit of her. She is so special, I can tell. And this video you made…well, that girl was loved. What a beautiful family you have. I see all of it. That is your story.
You are fierce, Deb. Fierce. And so was Alice. Maybe she got that from you.
Kim xoxo
What a beautiful tribute to Alice. Sending much love and peace to you and your family.
Beautiful Debra and Rod – what a special tribute.
Sending much love to you two, and your whole family, right now. Just watched the video with my daughter Maddie and I cried the whole time. xoxo
Oh, Debra and The Professor: What a sweet, beautiful, and touching tribute to Alice.
My heart aches for your loss, but also content in the thought that “death has been removed” from her.
Wishing you much peace and joy this evening as you celebrate Alice’s birthday.
[K]