First Birthday without you, Mom
I'll jump in at the point in my life where I was standing among my Mom's friends at her funeral. The room was full of love, and only the right amount of sadness. We were in a community-building that she often went to hang with her friends. Just outside the doors was the pool we spent the last decade enjoying together, summer after summer. I couldn't look anywhere without a memory flooding me.
One of her closest friends, Noel, leaned in and said to me that her daughter heard my Mom speak to her just a moment ago in the ladies' room. My initial thought was humor, a joke. My Mom fully embraced new age spirituality, immersed in ancient paganism, and used to joke that she would be sure to "haunt" us after her passing. As Noel's face remained serious, I felt unease. Noel then said, "Go hear what your Mom has to say to you."
I walked in, stood still for a moment. I could barely see straight. I sat down and started to cry. In my head, I said, "What, Mommy?". Sadly, I did not hear HER. But I heard in my own voice, "You are loved".
I cried more. I walked out and hugged Noel.
Today. Today is the first birthday without my Mom, the person who gave me life. I am unable to thank her again for it all. This wound hurts. I opened a birthday card from my grandmother (her Mom, who is 86) and immediately burst into tears. I suddenly became painfully aware that I would not be getting a birthday card from my Mom, just as I had for every year prior.
I messaged him (who knows nothing of the above story) and told him about the birthday card. I said, "it's so simple and silly, and it fucking hurts." His response, "YOU ARE LOVED."
I nearly died. I cried again, but this time with a full heart.
