Make Today the Best Day Ever: Remembering Sidney Mae

The following is the transcript from Sidney’s Rainbow Picnic, a tribute to our curious and caring little Sidney.

Let’s look at flower. What do you see?

A flower is so much more than a flower.

A flower is air. It’s sunshine. It’s clouds and rain. It’s a honeybee. It’s a rainbow. 

A flower, like our Sidney, can’t just be. It must inter-be. 

Alone, it wouldn’t exist

As most of you know, Sid asked for a rainbow theme for her birthday party last year because it included all the colors of her friends and family. She was a tapestry, woven from the community she loved. 

Losing her has left an impossible void in our lives. I miss her vigorously. Every. Single. Moment.

Yet, she’s here. You’re here today not because you knew her, but because… you ARE her.  I am her. We are all her.

And, our goal is, from this day forward, to make every day a Sidney Celebration.

To start, I’d like to have her mother, her best friend, her inspiration, and most cherished human, share a bit more about our wonderful daughter.

(Mary Beth)
Oh my sweet spinning smiling sprite Sidney you never seemed to stop moving and your radiant smile and energy was infectious. A mom is supposed to teach her daughter but Sidney was my teacher.  She taught me to look around and see love and beauty everywhere and she taught me that love is not finite to be divided up like a pizza but rather love is like air – it is all around us, knows no bounds and is infinite if you take it in.  She taught me to be unapologetically myself and relish in that freedom. 

I soaked up every minute with my beautiful girl and she was never far from me.  I only spent two nights away from my baby girl.  Sidney used to ask me do you miss me when I am at school.  And I told her yes of course and it was just lip service it was true I would think of her all the time and I would look at my watch and try to guess what adventures she and her friends were up to at that exact moment.  On the rare occasion I saw her in the wild and she didn’t see me I loved watching her and felt such joy and pride and love in seeing her little soul out in the world being her unique amazing authentic self and I felt so so lucky that I got to be her mom.  

Sidney loves her friends and family. She is happiest around all her friends and family.  Every night she would ask what are we doing tomorrow and want the exact details and she always wanted to add in more time with family and friends and include everyone she cared about in her day.  Today in fact would be her perfect day having all of you here - all the people she loved most and that loved her - out here in the beautiful setting having fun and eating ice cream.  This on top of clowntown she would been over the moon- best day ever she would have exclaimed to me as she often.  She loved her little brother and we could hear her softly singing and talking him to sleep each night - patiently answering his questions with a yes Haddie is asleep…yeesss we can go to the pango (our work for playground) tomorrow and soothing him to sleep or finally telling him to go to sleep.  Sidney loved making personal notes and gifts for her friends. On valentines day she spent weeks making sure each friend received a special card to express her love for them. 

Sidney loves nature and is always looking for beauty everywhere.  Much to her mother’s chagrin she would spot a beautiful flower whether in front of the bank, in the town planters, or a neighbors front yard and feel compelled to pick it.  I would try to dissuade her but usually we compromised and she would agree to only pick one or two flowers per walk, usually earmarking each flower for daddy or another special person in her life.  The same applied to interesting rocks or sticks or moss or worms or caterpillars.  Unfortunately the worms and caterpillars didn’t fare too well under her care. Despite her best intentions to give them a comfortable home she sometimes forgot the air holes or smothered them with love. She loved animals besides her dog and fish–  she had picked out all her future pets and named them - Cake and Mango the Kitties and Milkshake and Marshmallow the bunnies.

Sidney believes in magic.  She is always looking for unicorns, mermaids and fairies.  In the woods every adventure became a trek to the fairy tree where we would hike using all our senses and she would meticulously look for the tiny fairy footprints and listen for their wings and when Sidney finally found the tree that she was confident must be home to her magical friends her parents would try, not very stealthily, to sneak a gift from the fairies under it for her.  Sidney would insist on gifting the fairies with whatever leaf or stick or rock or other treasure she had collected along the way.  Last week she proclaimed that she wanted to see a unicorn so we never stopped searching for the local Andover unicorn. 

Sidney loves to paint and draw, dance and sing.  During the pandemic, she started creating watercolors at her easel with such concentration on each exact paint stroke and she never stopped creating her own unique style of art.  Her love of dancing and singing was contagious; she was a ball of constant motion jumping off couches and climbing on walls and coordinating little dances.  At her dance recital she may have been a step slow in the routine but wow did she nail each and every tuck jump.  She would suspend gravity for a moment - flying above the stage while the other kids looked so earthbound.  She loved singing along with powerful female voices like T. Swift or Miley Cyrus or Lady Gaga to name a few.  She would be dancing and singing and moving with the music with a pure joyful freedom and passion even when listening to Red Lips and Rosy cheeks (her name for Wildest Dreams) or Tik Tok or Call Me Maybe for the thousandth time.  

Sidney you delighted everyone around you there was no way not to smile and laugh in your presence.  From hug attacks to tickle crabs to couch snuggles and bed tuck-ins there was nothing better than cuddling up with a giggling happy Sidney or a sweet sleepy Sidney.  There is a stillness and quiet emptiness where you are missed each and every day.  Each morning your dad and I listen for you to whoosh down the bunk bed slide then the distinctive thump as your feet hit the ground running and each night I look for your little head of rumpled curls in the top bunk.  You aren’t here but we still have you.  You are in each and every cell of my being and forever a part of my heart and soul.  I see you everywhere from the flowers that reach toward the sky to the leaves rustling on the trees to the birds and butterflies flying all around us and of course in the rainbows above us.  I would trade anything in the world for one more hug attack from you or one more chance to tuck you into your bed kissing you then Bobo then you again then Bobo and finally one last kiss for you.  But it is time to let you fly free - I can’t hold you but I can feel you in each breathe and see you in the magic that is all around us.  Your love will never die and we will carry your beauty and light with us always.  

(Eric)

The day Sidney came into the world, we lost her heartbeat momentarily, triggering a rush to the OR that led to a cry I’ll never forget as she roared into the world. From that moment, she became part of us - and we became part of her.

I am her. We are her.

I remember staring at her and wondering if I could be a father. I wasn’t instantly in love like you hear. I was terrified. In the cold NICU triage, I was shaking. The first flash of her personality was when the NICU nurse tried to position an oxygen mask next to her tiny face. Weighing four pounds, she grabbed it and threw it aside, provoking a “wow, I’ve never seen that before.”

Looking back, I can hear what became her refrain: “Daddy, I’m FINE.” The girl who refused to admit she was sick because she might miss a moment of fun with her friends…. who would joyfully circle the ice rink until the very last minute to not miss a glide…. who went to Red Rocks in Colorado a few weeks ago suffering from bronchitis, and wouldn’t leave before she hopped down every single row like a bunny.

For 2075 days, her spirit shaped us. I wouldn’t recognize the man that stood there in the NICU that day. Every time she’d tell me about her boundless love for someone - her grandparents, her cousins, her friends… my capacity for love grew. With every curious question she asked (she would lay in bed pondering things like “what do snails eat?”) my curiosity blossomed.

She  searched the forest of Vermont for porcupines and ferries… spent hours wooing splashy stingrays to brush her hand at the aquarium…. And, of course, tirelessly memorized Taylor Swift songs to belt out anywhere people would listen.

In awe at the beauty of it all. Always in the moment. 

“This is the best day ever,” she would often say. 

She taught us to slow down, take in a moment, marvel at a small thing like a leaf on the ground… to find beauty in everything. 

She made me who I am… a parent. And, being Sidney’s dad is the best thing I’ve ever done. From middle-of-the-night wake ups, to princess dress up nights, to back-to-back birthday parties, I loved it all.

I am her. We are her.

At age two, she started school at Poppets Early Learners. There was a quiet girl named Penny who kept to herself. Sid, as she became known for doing, pulled her in. They bonded over art projects and silly games like “going on a bear hunt,” giggling girls out roaming around Andover in search of cuddly bears. They were “thick as thieves,” according to Ms Lisa.

From that blossomed the most beautiful friendship, despite their very different personalities. You’d frequently find them cuddled up like two spider monkeys locked in an embrace. Sid’s love was fearless.

Her cousin Maddie was also a shy, quiet, and cautious kid. So, I assumed when I took her skiing for the first time I’d have to coax her down the mountain. But, no… she wanted to “ski like her big cousin” so she went full send, straight down the hill. As I scurried to scoop her up as she tumbled, skis flying, she was laughing hysterically… “I’m skiing with Sid,” she yelled!

Sid had a knack for unlocking the potential of everyone around her.

I am her. We are her.

 She was a giver, thoughtful about her people. She created art in waves of creativity. It was abstract. Yet, every piece had meaning. And, each had a person in mind. A rainbow for Maddie. A family of creatures for her brother. A cat for Keiki (because I guess dogs need cats?). She had a habit of setting things aside to give to everyone she loved, even if she never actually delivered them.

She picked flowers everywhere, and carefully assigned those to people, too. I’m pretty sure Enterprise Bank is going to send us a bill for the dozens of roses and tulips she’s plucked from their garden to fuel her gifting. 

On the day she left us, she picked me a beautiful white flower, and left it at the corner of my desk where she snuck gifts to me throughout each day.

I am her. We are her.

Sid would tell anyone that would listen that her favorite holidays were Halloween, Easter, and “spring.” Celebrating the dead and reveling in the magic of rebirth.

So, know…. she wasn’t afraid of death. She was curious about it. She spent the past two weeks showing all her friends the movie “Over the Moon,” which explores a daughter’s journey to understand the loss of her mother.

Last week she told her cousin she was “sparkly sunshine,” and today her spirit is brighter than ever. She sparkles in every beat of our hearts…. every rustle of leaves… every chirp from a bird… and in the glow of every hopeful rainbow.

I am her. We are her.

In closing, we have just one ask for everyone here: 

Make every day a Sidney Celebration. 

Create magic.

Love without fear.

Find beauty in everything.

Bring people together, no matter how different they seem. 

Be… A rainbow.

We love you so much Sidney. You’ve made us who we are today. Shine for us my bubs. The world needs you more than ever.