Today is the birthday that you didn’t make it to.
It’s hard to imagine, still, that your body gave out before you were done with it. Your soul. Your being. Your presence. They never gave up. They continue to wrap us with joy and laughter and learning.
Today is March 17, 2015. You would have been 63.
In the seven months since your body left us, we’ve continued to grow. We now know grief. We now know love and bonding and what strength really means. We’re starting to know what it’s like to not have you laughing in the next room. Or this room. We’re starting to let the gaping void heal. The wet wound is drying.
Nothing is getting easier and it’s best for the people around us to ignore our pain. None of us want them to see it because it’s not their burden. Our emotions range from freedom to happiness to soul-crushing desperation. But there’s acceptance. Acceptance keeps us moving forward and our daily lives are just as simple as they ever were. Family comes first. Then work. Then play.
The kids have grown to the point where you might not recognize them. I’m overwhelmed with pride at each corner. Each turn is better than the next. There’s thoughtfulness and tenderness and a wit that is amazingly disarming. These kids are everything that you would have ever wanted them to be. They’re my kids. They are kids that you would have raised. They are who they are because of you.
I’m proud of you, mom. You built an amazing community, incredible family, and a life worth living. You fill me with hope, daily. You remind me about the important things and allow me to step back from the ones that can wait. You’ve taught me to cherish my moments and the people around me. You’ve taught me to live and to enjoy this life. You’ve done well. Your best was the best. I can only hope to be like you one day.
Happy birthday, mom.
May this day be filled with overflowing martinis, damn-good Chinese food, rowdy dancing, abundant laughter, and a few tears. May this day be filled with your eternal light. May this day be filled with your presence and all of the joy that it brings us.
Today is a celebration. Today is the day that you were born. Today, we celebrate your life.
Happy birthday, mom.
6 thoughts on “Happy birthday, mom”
It’s so hard to lose a parent so young. This is a beautiful post and tribute to your mom. Much love today!
Hugs to you and your family. ❤
Every time I go to dragon boat I think of Miki and Kate. Every time I come across one of the pictures I took of Miki, my eyes tear. She touched us in such a profound way. Thanks for reminding us that she will always be with us.
Alx, My thoughts are definitely with you on this day. Happy Birthday to your Mom! As the tears stream down my face, I feel your pain and am jealous of the strength that consumes you. I hope that by the time I get to the seven month mark of my mother’s final journey that my gaping void has also begun to heal. FYI that will be right at about Prefest time so I fear that the wound will be as fresh as the day she left.
I hope your memories bring you comfort