Happy Birthday! I miss you so much. So very much. There are no words to adequately describe the frequency or intensity of yearning I have to see you, hear your voice, feel your embrace. How I long to have one of our special girls’ days or trips over to Sanibel Island. I wish that I could watch you and my little girl interact and snuggle up. Exuding the special bond you had together.
You’ve been gone a little over two years. I hate that all of my memories have a fuzzy edge to them now. I can no longer conjure up your voice. Our adventures together melding. No longer crisp and sharp. Remembering you is like living underwater. All of my senses dull.
Before you died I often felt enmeshed. Entangled by the complexity of you and your past and our past. Trying to feel where you ended and I began. That string was snapped violently on the day you succumbed to your body’s demise. Leaving me like an astronaut suddenly detached from the mother ship. Lost in space.
Leaving me to ponder was I trapped or anchored by you?
Perhaps a bit of both.
Had I known of our abrupt chasm I would have studied moments longer and more intently. I would have practiced compassion and forgiveness rather than disdain. I would have held you tighter, listened closer, appreciated you with fervor, loved you greater.
But instead, here I sit on my side of the crag. You, so far away that I cannot even hear your echo.
Rather, I trickle down my hard learned lessons so that our past does not repeat itself and spillover into my future.
On your birthday I celebrate you with a reverence I never boasted while you graced this earth.
I see you now, Mom. I see you entirely. Because of and in spite of you I love you, I thank you, I forgive you. I hope you can do the same. Perched on your crag so very far away from me now.
Happy Birthday Mom! I hope you found happiness.