Monday, March 23, 2015

Microblog Monday--My birthday

Today is my birthday.

Today is the first time that my birthday won't be "sung" by my mom.

My brother and sister told me the first one was hard and I imagine that it will be--it's early yet.

Though last year was harder. I went out to see mom who couldn't get out of bed. She floated in and out of consciousness. She floated in and out of lucidity, but I took her the cake that I had made and she ate it--like she always ate cake. Frosting first, then cake. She didn't like to waste the calories if the cake wasn't as good as the frosting. It was so hard--and I offered to help her eat, but she didn't want to.

The thing is mom was diagnosed in October and we lost her in April.  My sister and brother were born in June and August respectively. On their last birthday with her they had no idea, no inkling, that it would be the last one. My birthday, I knew. I had no doubts that this birthday would be without her.

I don't know if the foreknowledge was good or bad. It was hell seeing her that way. It is hard knowing I won't hear her on the phone mangling the happy birthday song. I miss her. But I'm not seeing her in such pain and so altered. I can remember the other birthdays with her and smile. I miss her though. So much.


  1. I think either way would be hard. Each year, my grandma calls and sings to me on my birthday. The last 2 years, I have worried it would be the last year. So I try to cherish it, but I know, the first year she isn't here will also be hard.
    Sending you a virtual hug since I can't sing to you.

  2. It may seem odd, but I am a big proponent of singing for yourself. So in this case, give yourself the gift of song; bringing the love your mom had for you full circle and nurturing yourself in the process. And, happy birthday.

  3. Happy Birthday to you
    Happy Birthday to you
    Happy Birthday dear blogger
    Happy Birthday to you

    I'm sorry for your loss but I do wish you the gentlest and sweetest birthday

    Stopping in from ICLW

  4. The firsts really are hard. I'm so sorry for the loss of your mom.

  5. Your own birthday is also never just about you; it's about your connection to your parents, these people who raised you and brought you from birthday to birthday to birthday. So of course today will be hard.

    That said, happy birthday. I hope there were happy moments in the day, too.

  6. My mom sang me a special birthday song every year. Most years she'd call at the exact time of my birth. The first birthday I had without her, when that time passed, I cried. I missed her so much. I missed her special birthday song. I kick myself for not ever recording her singing it.

    The year of firsts is the worst. The good news is, they only last for a year. It doesn't get easier, per se, but it becomes more bearable as time wears on.

    Hope you had some moments of joy, too.

  7. Happy (belated) birthday! The first year without your mom is definitely difficult. And sometimes even the 2nd and 3rd years some things or moments are just hard. *big hugs* I'm sorry for the loss of your mom.

  8. I expect you'll always miss her. I know this birthday is particularly happy, but I hope as the years go by, it will be easier for you. Maybe bittersweet is the right word.

  9. Firsts are always really hard. I feel for you. And I hope that the good memories will always triumph over the bad. Best wishes for the next year.