The 3rd and 4th of April are always difficult days. The good news is that they usually mark the end of my seasonal depression, the sudden downward trend in my emotions. But they are still depressing days. They mark the beginning and the ending of my Mom’s life.
She had been born on 4 April and died on 3 April, the day before her 42nd birthday. She would be 47 this year.
This year was not as difficult as some of the ones before. Five years is a long time. It doesn’t mean that I don’t miss her. In fact, like one of my friend’s parents had told me of his own grief during those early days, “Some days it feels like a million years ago. Some days it feels like it was yesterday. But I can’t tell you what I’d give to talk to them again one more time.”
Dan is still right. There are times where I almost can’t remember the sound of her voice. There are times when I miss her laugh. If you’ve experienced losing a loved one, you know something like this.
But, on her birthday, I still want to celebrate her. Even in a small way. When she was alive, we would always go out to eat. We would always have some cake. While doing both might be a stretch for the budget, a piece of cake seemed ideal.
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