It still doesn’t seem quite possible that I’m spending your 66th birthday without you. We’ve spent birthdays apart before – yours or mine – but we’ve never been more than a phone call away and we’ve never let one pass without a special dinner or gift or outing. I remember one birthday that we spent at the zoo. We made quiche and hummingbird cupcakes and had a picnic. It was a beautiful day and we so enjoyed our time together.
I won’t lie – the last 9 months have kind of sucked. It’s been such an odd mix of low-level depression and getting by reasonably well with a few ugly crying sessions thrown in for good measure. I never know what will get me. Being at your house is somehow lovely and comforting. Being in your office? Terrifying. I can’t explain why.
And sometimes I’m really upset at how I’ve been able to move on – putting our clothes on each day, going to work, making dinner, reading to the kids, having date nights with Matt, having fun with friends, camping, traveling, living – because you were so important to us and it just doesn’t feel right that we should, could go on without you.
I know of course that the last thing you would want was for us to stop living life. You were the master of that art. Equal parts caring and fun and everyone’s friend, confidant and role model. We that knew you better than anyone else were the luckiest – are the luckiest. My regrets concerning you are few – mostly that there wasn’t MORE – more fun trips, more workday lunches, more Grammy stories, more birthdays. I suppose it’s greedy and I try to comfort myself with the fact that we got quality over quantity. I am grateful for that.
I felt sad about the fact that Kelly and I didn’t have our manic ritual of selecting the perfect gift for you this year. I gave the Leukemia and Lymphoma society some money for Mother’s Day and while I am happy to put money towards research for a good cause, a meaningful cause, the whole thing was just so hollow and crappy and banal. So for your birthday, I am making a tradition that I hope to carry on for years to come.
I am asking the kids to pick out something new that they want to try and we will do it so we can continue living in honor of you. We might try a new recipe, go find a new book to read, see a new movie, check out a new shop or visit a new museum. We will take us with you in our hearts and keep enjoying this big beautiful world for you.
Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.
Jess
Hugs. And what a wonderful tradition. The first of everything is the worst.
Hugs. What a beautiful letter. I am sure you will find something to do to honor your most beloved mom each year on her birthday.