Today would have been my mom's 62nd birthday. It's hard to imagine what my mom would have been like at this age. Would she still be cleaning houses? Would she still serve as a deacon at First Presbyterian? Would she still love to joke around, make costumes and bake? Would she still roller blade? Would she have gray hair? Wrinkles? It's difficult to know. In a way, I feel lucky. My memory of my mom is of her young, vibrant (albeit the last few years when she was battling cancer). I never had to watch her grow old. There's some beauty in that realization...
This day since my mom's passing holds so much meaning. When my grief was fresh, it served as a day of mourning, sadness and sorrow. I made extreme effort not to plan anything on this particular day. And now - 14-years later, I almost see it as any other day. With one exception. Well, two. My dad and older brother. For the last 14-years, I wake up and text my dad and older brother that I love them with the implication that I was thinking about them on mom's birthday. This morning, I woke up and texted my dad, "I love you." And then, I went to text Greg...and had that sinking feeling that I used to get when I would temporarily forget my mom passed away. Like the morning of my college graduation, or the night Nick proposed, or as I walked down the aisle. In those moments - for a split second - I feel as though I can call, reach out and just be with those that I've lost. But then reality hits, and I'm flooded with the memory of their final moments. And it's all too real again.
So, as I move into my morning of this particular August 7, my heart is tinged with a bit of sadness coupled with gratitude for my wonderful memories. Serendipitously, I go to my first therapy appointment this afternoon of which I didn't schedule. Kaiser did. Once provided the date, there was a bit of hesitation on my part. But then I thought, "what the heck - it's just another day." With that said, this 'just another day' could mark the beginning of a gratifying self-care journey. One that will allow me to heal, move forward and become a better me.
Love you mom. Hope you and Greggie are celebrating just as ridiculously as the two idiots captured in the photo below. =)
