Birthdays are kind of a sick joke when the person whose birth and years of life you're celebrating are no longer on this earth. And in another way, they're beautiful. Because they celebrate the beginning of something so damn incredible and someone who touched so many lives in what seems now like a fleeting moment in time.
Neal and I speak often about how lucky we were to have you here with us for so long. While every second is immersed in one way or another with feelings of missing you, and while sometimes we have to remind ourselves that we can't just pick up the phone and tell you how much we love you or what's going on in our lives, we are mostly able to find the silver lining in the storm clouds of losing the very person who gave us our own birthdays.
We are so lucky that we were raised by you and by dad. We are so lucky we have enough wonderful memories with you to drown out the sadness that came with your 59th and final year here. We are so lucky that you instilled in us the notion that attitude is everything, and to always find and recognize the blessings and people we are so lucky to have. We are so lucky you brought us into an extended family who shares so many of these memories and can reminisce with us and remember you as you were at your healthiest. We are so lucky to be a part of you, and to carry on your legacy for the rest of our lives.
I will never forget the lessons you taught me, whether it was learning to tie my shoes, drive a car or leave this world with a grateful heart. You spent 59 years here teaching us as much as you could, and you've spent the last 2 years up there sending us love and more lessons through the people you've sent our way.
I hope your second birthday up there is as special as you were to all of us. I hope you get to eat an abundance of M&Ms (2 at a time) and speedwalk through the clouds, more than likely naked. I hope you get to show off your token dance move and sport that beautiful smile that shows off your dimple. I hope you get buttered noodles and popcorn to eat (tweat tweat!), and maybe some marshmallow peeps leftover from Easter, but only if they're stale enough.
Most importantly, and in your very own words that you used to repeat to me every day for your last year, I hope you always remember and never forget how much I love you; how much we all love you, and how much you are missed.
Happy 61st Birthday, mommy.
