Today was a marathon, not a sprint. But I'll just dwell on the thoughts that were most powerful and overbearing. Today we celebrated my Mom's birthday, which is actually coming up on Tuesday. We didn't mention, although it was heavy on my heart, that tomorrow is my Dad's death day anniversary. And mixed in with these two things is the sad fact that my best friend in the whole wide world lost her Dad yesterday.
Amidst all the rushing of things I committed (over-committed?) to do for Mom's birthday celebration, were the swirling thoughts of the devastation that was March 10, 2020. And how my best friend was there for me. Every step of the way. Because she knows me. She knows my family. She knows every little crook and crazy cranny there is to our family. The good, the bad and the really ugly. She walked it with me, she lived it, she submerged herself in it. And I how when she text me and told me that her dad died, I stopped what I was doing and called. No answer. Just a message that said, "too tired and drained to talk." And I feel like a terrible friend. Inadequate. We have messaged a little more about it and the strangeness of it and how it doesn't feel real. But I don't feel like I'm kicking ass and taking names in the best friend department. I feel like a dismal failure. She has something I don't. A spouse. So I suppose she has someone to lean on in a way that I didn't. And I don't need that today. I'm so used to being just me. There are very few days, moments, seconds in time, when I long for a shoulder to lay my head on, for that intimate voice to whisper, "I'm here, I've got you, it's going to be all right." Usually I say it to myself and that's enough. And sometimes my higher power whispers to me. Either way, I don't really miss having a spouse these days. But on that day four years ago, I do remember how utterly exhausted I felt, and defeated. How I longed for someone to stroke my hair and let me know I wasn't alone. So where I needed my bestie to show up and hug me for real and be the angel with skin on, maybe my bestie is covered in that department.
I feel like it's important to celebrate Mom. Especially since Dad left just two days before her birthday. I imagine that her birthday and the celebratory part is forever altered for her. I can only imagine how the sorrow of "death day" rolls over her birthday like a steam roller. How after fifty-six years of marriage, her honey will never again surprise her for her birthday or take her out to dinner or tell her how happy she makes him or thank her for staying married when the road got rough. Not that she could never find another. She could. She's right spry for her age. But 56 years is a long time. There will never be another like that one. So we had dinner at my sisters and celebrated Mom. And I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep my sorrow from sliding down my face, but I did. And there was a lot of joy and laughter tonight. I'm so grateful for that.
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| Happy Birthday Mom! |
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