Today was my mom's 70th birthday.
I knew it was coming. I just did not expect it to be so brutal.
It was not even because it was her birthday, November 9th which has long since become a day we eat Twizzlers and buy purple flowers and mom's a little bit quiet and on we go. I didn't think about how the email, the text, the phone call that always came today from Dad, wouldn't.
Some years he just called to say he loved me and was proud of me, and he wouldn't mention her and neither would I, because we didn't need to, because we didn't want the tears. Some years we'd all talk and remember together, and send random memories. Some years he couldn't say the words, and would text or email them instead, always to my sister and I.
Like this one from 11/9/2017 I pulled up again today:
Good morning, my beautiful girlies,
Praying for us as we all miss your mom, my wife, and our friend on her birthday.
Someday we will understand.
For now, we must press on and continue to love each other.
Your mom is very proud of you.
I love you,
Dad
He always did.
Dad, Lisa and I, we always kept her birthday for black and white cows and strawberry pie and for remembering how over the top she always made birthdays, how much she loved to celebrate, how thoughtful she was to the most extraordinary details, how much she had wished to reach 50.
And today she'd be 70, and he didn't.
The silent phone deafened me.
He didn't call, or text, or remember with us.
He also didn't miss her.
He said we must press on and love. He said someday we'd understand, and this double-whammy day, I'm just gonna have to trust him.
Sending hugs. My mom would have been 89 on Nov 3, and MIL would have been 98 on the 8th. I miss them both.
ReplyDeleteI was praying for you on her bday. -RS
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