Every year, if she didn’t happen to be with us, I’d send my mom flowers on her birthday. Last year she was here in Arizona, celebrating, eating cake, loving on her beautiful granddaughter, and so very full of life. If someone had told me that night it would be our last birthday, I’d have dismissed such a preposterous statement without a second thought. How silly! How silly to think she wouldn’t be with us this April 24th. How silly to imagine I would never send her flowers on her birthday, again.
Every book you read about grief tells you the same thing: that each milestone after the death of a loved one will bring fresh grief, and new tears, and unimaginable sadness. And that is exactly where I am as her birthday arrives…
…and I have not sent her flowers.
Rather, the flowers for her birthday this year were a beautiful bouquet of tulips on the alter at church: In Memory.
I miss you so very, very much, Mom. I wish you were here for me to wrap my arms around and wish you the happiest of birthdays. And I know you know…I love you with all my heart!