There is a superstition that when you wake on the first day of the month, the first thing you should say to ensure good luck for the entire month is "Rabbit Rabbit Rabbit." Today is the first of the month, as well as it would be the 40th birthday of Stephie. My first thoughts this morning, let alone words were not Rabbit Rabbit Rabbit (which in my home you would think would happen quite regularly and I do have a Pickle-rabbit next to me as I type this) but were more muddled and commonplace. I have been inundated with Stephie thoughts for weeks, and all of this Super Bowl talk has put me on overload. Stephie's birthday party was at the Super Bowl party (which she never really liked) so Steph being herself, always wanted a big to do. With just the "The Grown-Ups." Which has now morphed into the cousins. But people have their own lives and the world keeps spinning in spite of her being buried in it.
I can sing the secret dirty jingles she and I made up that no one else knew, I can wear purple, I can smell Cotton Blossom from Bath and Body Works and be nearly doubled over from emotion AND I can keep on breathing, loving, laughing and saying Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit... Stephie, Stephie, Stephie.
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