Happy Birthday (Dad, don't read this)

Today, my Mom would have been sixty!

Even after almost two years, it's hard for me to believe

that she isn't here to celebrate.

That we aren't planning her birthday,

I'm not teasing her about being old, and the kids

aren't making lists of things to buy her.

I sometimes wonder "what if".  What if my life was like

one of those choose your own endings stories.  

At each important point in the book, you, the reader, chose

the direction you wanted your character to go.

What if life was like that. What if, three years ago, as we walked through

the zoo, on her birthday weekend, there was a choice, a point

where I could choose "Move forward with your Mom" instead of

"Mom gets cancer and dies".  

What would my life be like now. Would I have my boys?

Would she still be here to have seen them come back to our family, to watch

them grow.  Would I have the friends that have come to mean so

much to me during this time of loss?

What would we be doing together?  Would I appreciate her

more?  Would I continue to go about my life

taking each day for granted, because I'd never been faced with loss. 

With grief.

Would my life be just going through the motions, if I had chosen the path

"Mom Lives", or would I still saver each second of every day.

 Having lost my Mom, I have learned that life, like time,

is fleeting.  It is a gift.  How you spend your moments really

does matter.  The choices you make, may seem small now,

but in the end they make up your life.

I miss my Mom all the time.  I miss her in big and little ways.  I miss her laugh,

her smile, her hugs.  I miss being able to see her whenever I want.
I miss the late nights that we staid up talking and

talking and talking.

I miss her friendship, her support, her encouragement.  I miss

watching my kids run to her.  I miss her glee

at being a grandmother.

The life I have now is not the life I imagined three years ago

as we walked together through the Bronx zoo and talked about her birthday dinner.

My life today is not what it was.   As we sent messages

to my Mom, as my father and I held each other and cried,

I couldn't help but think of the note the Big K. wrote on his balloon:

"Oma, I really miss you, but we're doing a lot of really fun

things."

That is her legacy.  Fun, family, love.  She would want

us all to move forward, to enjoy our lives. 

To cherish the time we have together, the big and little moments. 

She would want us to be happy.

Happy Birthday Mom.  I miss you.