Birthday anniversaries are sometimes more difficult than death anniversaries—for me anyway. Usually on someone’s birthday, you are reminded that a person that you love is alive and well. It stings when you are just reminded that you can’t celebrate with them.
Today, my mother would have turned 52. She talked about not wanting to grow older all the time.
In her eyes, maybe turning 50 would have meant she was old because she died when she was 49. I would have loved to see her hit 50. I would give anything.
I love birthdays. My mother did too. It’s a whole day dedicated to someone that you love. That’s pretty awesome in my book. The fact that I am celebrating my mother without her here feels wrong. I am not going to pretend like this day doesn’t harbor a lot of sadness, because it does. But, with that sadness also comes a beautiful reminder of who she was.
I am still celebrating who she was, after all.
Today I would like to write a letter to my mother. This letter is like my gift, so to speak. I want to share this letter. I want it to show you that it’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes.
Jan. 18, 2016
This is my third year celebrating without you. It is different not having you here — but that is not going to stop me from making this your day. This whole month reminds me of you.
I wish you were here, but I know the celebration you are having with Jesus is far better than any party I could have for you here. I have peace knowing you are well taken care of. I want you to know that I am being well taken care of too.
It really sucks that you aren’t here. Sometimes I can feel every bit of pain that comes with it and sometimes I feel nothing at all. But, I am always feeling a loss.
Sometimes the feeling is just more crippling than others, I guess.
There are things I want to share with you so badly. So much has happened this year. So many good things have happened. I just want to tell you about all of them. I wish Heaven had a telephone so I could still talk to you.
You wrote me a letter a few months before you died. I read it all the time. It reminds me of how much you loved me. That love carries on even though you are not here. Some days I want to scream.
It’s not fair that I don’t have you anymore.
The biggest lesson I learned this year is that I can do it without you. That doesn’t make it suck any less, but I am strong enough to go through this life without you. I have doubted myself so much for so long. But, you taught me to believe in myself. That’s what I am going to begin doing.
I wish I could celebrate this birthday with you today. I love you and I miss you. This day is about you—celebrating who you were. You were the best mom a girl could have. I will remember all the things you did and the person you were today and every day.
Happy Birthday, mom.