Today would have been my mom's 53rd birthday. I have friends who are older than that, which helps me understand why losing my mom feels so strange. She was 19 when I was born, and I made an easy transition into adulthood, relating to my parents more as peers.
I often think about how different our lives were. My mom, who always wanted to travel, hardly left the East Coast (until her trip to visit us!), while I've been to more places than I can remember, and all I've ever wanted is to settle down in the suburbs. By the time she was my age, my mom had been married 15 years and had two teenagers and an 8-year-old. We're still paper pregnant with child number one.
But regarding personality (and hair), we were so much alike. My mom and I always had secret looks that we gave each other when people would use a word incorrectly. We both loved to read (and my Lord of the Rings addiction probably began when she read the series to me a few months before I was born). We were good with numbers. We both relied too much on reason and tried to hide from our feelings. And we both were much more affected by my dad's death than we ever realized or let on.
Losing mom felt like losing my last connection to my past. Who do you go to when you need to remember the name of your kindergarten teacher? Who else knows the name of distant cousins? Who else knows all the embarrassing stories of your youth?
Happy Birthday, Mom. We miss you deeply.
This post made me cry. (Although with my dad's death only a few months ago, I tend to do that a lot.) I'm so sorry - grief is hard.
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