Happy birthday, my love. Five years have gone by

since that fire took your life and left me to cry.

Our wedding anniversary was just last week.

I was so excited to say those vows that I could hardly speak.

We danced until the sun rose the next morn.

Now, such a short time later, I feel ragged and worn.

The child I was carrying when your soul left the earth

died in my arms from complications at birth.

I had him buried in the grave next to yours.

It's amazing--the weight of sadness that a heart endures.

That child was a living reminder of you,

but I lost him as well. What am I to do?

I've come to your grave with birthday wishes, though you are here no longer.

My love for you has not diminished. It has only grown stronger.

I'm sure that you and our child are together in the hereafter.

That eases my pain a little and brings me some laughter.

At least you have gotten to know our son,

so in a sense, that is a prize we have both won.

Goodbye for now, my love. I will return soon

to put red roses on your grave in the middle of June.

Red symbolizes the passionate spirit you had.

It forever lives on inside me, and for that, I will be glad.