I can’t stop crying today.
Yesterday was fantastic – a red letter day. Vivienne was so happy at her school birthday party; at her home birthday party, too.
Seeing my baby girl puff up with pride as her teacher and her classmates wished her a happy birthday, listening to her tell me that she now, “felt like a big girl…” I smiled a lot yesterday. It was a good, good day. I’d say her best birthday yet.
Today, I cry.
I feel breathless.
Today is my Mom’s birthday.
She would have been 60.
Today has been more difficult than Christmas and Thanksgiving combined.
I was hoping to sail through the day. No. The boat is sinking.
I just re-read the post that I wrote to my Mom last January 25, 2013. It’s here. Read it.
I’m thankful that I told her how I felt.
However, it’s difficult for me to understand that this year there is no birthday post for her to read. Sure, sure, she knows I love her. But this year she isn’t going to turn on her iPad and read my post (and never comment on my blog… because she never did… she’d tell me her comments on the phone.)
This year is so different.
This morning before I told Lila that today was Nana’s birthday, she was sitting on the swing on our back patio… gently swinging back and forth in the sunshine… singing, “I love you, Lord… and I lift my voice…” The same song that if you remember, I found my Mom singing on the tape recorder I found in her house after she died when we were cleaning.
I know my Mom is with me. Today.
Still, I can’t “celebrate” her birthday this year. You can’t celebrate when the one you love is dead. Well, at least I can’t. Not yet. Maybe next year.
My sister said, “She should be here. Today.”
I couldn’t agree with her more.
Today it feels as if she died all over again.
I’m reminding myself to just take a breath.
I’m really shocked by how difficult this is for me.
My eyes keep filling with tears as I type. As I fold laundry. As I play play-doh with the girls.
On days like today there’s no escaping that she’s gone.
>> From the post I wrote to my Mom last year on her birthday:
I miss her so much and I want to feel that all is right with the world and today, I don’t.
I thought I missed her then?
—The Story of Loss. On Losing my Mom. Grief and the first year.
September 30, 2013 :: Slivers of Sunlight :: Post here.
October 6, 2013 :: That first week.Those first days :: Post here.
October 14, 2013 :: 14 days after :: Post here.
October 20, 2013 :: I found a treasure :: Post here.
November 4, 2013 :: She’s been gone for 4 weeks :: Post here.
November 13, 2013 :: I smile and drive and cry and smile and cry :: Post here.
November 17, 2013 :: Weekends aren’t easy :: Post here.
November 26, 2013 :: The holidays, the firsts :: Post here.
December 1, 2013 :: 8 weeks :: Post here.
December 10, 2013 :: The Dream :: Post here.
December 19, 2013 :: Vulnerability and Moving Forward :: Post here.
December 22, 2013 :: The reminders. They’re everywhere :: Post here.
December 29, 2013 :: 2013 :: Post here.
January 1, 2014 :: The New Year :: Post here.
January 7, 2014 :: 2 days from 4 months :: Post here.
January 17, 2014 :: Another Gift :: Post here.