Nov. 12th marked another heavenly birthday for my daughter Dawn. I’ll never know if she would have become the Olympic ice skater or hand surgeon that she dreamed of becoming, or if she would have a family of her own and I would be a grandmother several times over by now. But forever etched in my memory is the moment Dawn entered this world with her big blue eyes wide open and her arms thrown out as if she was embracing the new world she was about to experience. She hit the ground running and never stopped. She was pretty, loving, generous, kind, smart, funny, and ever so creative. She packed more living in her precisely eight and three quarter years than many of us do over decades. Her teachers and coaches described her and her work as “fantastic… tremendous… excellent… beautiful… terrific… outstanding… dynamite.”
But to me it was her love for the Lord and her family, and her kindness to everyone she came in contact with that reflected the beauty of her spirit and made my heart soar. All these years later, when I think of my precious daughter, all “is well with my soul,” but the tears still come with memories of her hand in mine as we walked through the mall to shop, picking strawberries, or singing together in the choir on Sundays.
For a very long time after the crash that killed my sweet girl, I agonized over whether she was in pain or terrified in her final moments. I felt like those are things we are supposed to protect our children against and I had failed. As I accepted the Lord’s call to be lifted up in the aftermath of this tragedy in my life, I came to trust the words of Dawn’s favorite choir song, Be Not Afraid, taken from Isaiah 43. My little girl had no reason to be afraid, Jesus her Savior was “with her through it all,” and she is dancing in heaven with Him today.
It took many years and much grieving and healing before I could feel anything but excruciating pain when I thought of my daughter. But as I grew in my faith and trust in the Lord, I found the peace of acceptance that I needed to find joy again when I thought of Dawn. Now when I think of this beautiful flower in the garden of my life, my heart soars again. I thank God for every labor pain that birthed this precious child and for every minute of those eight and three quarter years that Dawn graced my life with hers.
You are gone from this earth, Dawn, but never from my heart. Happy Birthday, my sweet girl.
I love you always and forever, Mom
God is with you and your testimony says it all. Thank you for your FAiTH.
God bless you, Donna, and your precious Dawn. Until you meet again, she lives on in your heart. Thank you so much for sharing.
Thank you for posting this beautiful tribute. She was clearly remarkable while here and is perfected in Heaven. May she continually reach and strengthen you and your family.
Dearest Donna,
You spoke of Dawn Marie’s “kindness” and “the beauty of her spirit.” I used to marvel at her ability to make me, as an adult, feel so loved and important. She truly “graced” all of our lives. I can still hear her silly conversations and joyous laughter. Praying for your continued peace of heart.
Madeline
So heartfelt and so touching and so well expressed, Donna. Your open and honest expressions and your reliance on God are admirable.
Beautifully written. You are my hero. Love you!
Donna….this is a beautiful tribute to your baby girl. She never suffered because God was always by her side. WITH MUCH LOVE Sarah Winn💟
As if you read our hearts.
God bless you, Donna. Being a man and Brigette’s father, I find it so difficult to communicate my memories, my feelings and my heart ache without anger and regret. Your words speak for us. I am grateful for the tears today that said, “yes, exactly…except the part about labor pains!”
I’ll picture Dawn in my heart all day.
Happy Birthday Dawn, you made this world a better place. Your memory heals the hearts of others.
It seemed impossible when it happened. It left me numbed to the core. Going through the days one felt this deep hole and loss. We spent a holiday or two together annually but I ALWAYS appreciated your Christmas cards and your inclusion of our family in some things. Memere and Pepere were never the same, none of us were.