“Today, is your birthday and I should be posting a new selfie with you, but I can’t.
I should be fixing your favorite supper and dessert, but I can’t.
I should be squirming with excitement at the thought of you opening the perfect gift I just got you, but that’s not happening.
I should be meeting you at the coffee shop for an americano, to talk about new music or the politics of the day or to discuss the strange ways of the Lord, but you won’t be there.
The only thing I can do is share old photos, and recall memories of the 24 birthdays I DID have with you.
Yes, absolutely grateful for every single one, but mad as hell that I have to wait till death to restart the memory building.”
This was my message to the ether this morning.
Today is my eldest sons 28th birthday.
Each year, I struggle with myself about how I “should” or should not celebrate…or not celebrate at all.
The first year he was gone, we went to his favorite places—Taco Luchador, Guitar Center, Heine Brothers, braving the feelings of imagining him still there with us, and realizing he would never enter those places again.
The next year, we tried to do the same, different restaurant, etc., but I couldn’t help but feel it was too somber, and too many memories that just draw up the sorrow of the fact that he’s GONE made the outing dismal.
So, I stopped forcing myself and everyone in our small circle of family to feel like we had to do anything at all.
I relent. I’m tired. I don’t know the “right” thing to do anymore!
But that’s the point I want to emphasize. There is no rule book. You get to handle this day however you wish. Please accept that liberty and be okay with it, and don’t allow others to force you into pigeon holes of ceremony.
Whether it is your child, spouse, parent, sibling, or friend you are grieving, know that what you feel is valid and important. Don’t be afraid to express it.
The article below gives us some celebration ideas, while also affirming that doing NOTHING is admissible, too.
Happy 28th birthday, my beloved first-born, miracle son, Levi Wolf!
I know you won’t see this or even most likely hear me talking to you today, but that won’t stop this broken hearted momma from saying all the things.
Life will never, ever be the same.
But I’ll keep recognizing your birth, life, and death, till my last breath.