Nicolas spent his entire life in Japan, tucked inside my belly for a glorious 41 weeks. He died during early labor suddenly and unexpectedly from undiagnosed pregnancy complications. After his quiet birth, we held our beautiful son in our arms, close to our hearts. We took photos and locks of hair and footprints. We tried to give him a lifetime of love in two short hours and then, kiss by kiss, said our final goodbye. We took our sweet boy  home to the United States and laid him to rest just as the cherry blossoms were coming into full bloom.

It has been three years since Nicolas died, and it has taken me almost this long to understand the meaning of hanami and the reasons for hanami festivals. Many countries have their own version of hanami, where people gather to view the beautiful but short-lived cherry blossom, even in our nation’s capitol, Washington, DC. But only in Japan are there hanami festivals – a revelry of food, family and friends under the cherry blossom trees. Hanami is the celebration and appreciation of life, in spite of – or, perhaps, because of – its brevity. It is a party made all the sweeter by knowing it will end so soon.

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