I couldn’t really sleep last night. Maybe it was the weight of today, or maybe it was something deeper, something that reaches into the part of me still trying to find comfort in a world without you. I woke up just wanting “love,” but it’s hard to find in a day that feels so heavy without you here.
As I dragged myself through the morning, it hit me: September 10 has always been a day of immense love. It’s a day I’ve celebrated you for as long as I can remember. This date, this moment, it used to be filled with joy, laughter, and the pure happiness that came from honoring the incredible woman you were.
But today, it feels… awkward. Strange, even. How do I celebrate you when you’re no longer here to be celebrated? How do I feel the joy of your birthday without your presence lighting up the day? It’s such a peculiar feeling, this void, this absence that still feels so present. I don’t quite know what to do with it, except acknowledge it.
Yet despite the awkwardness, despite how deeply my soul misses you, I’ve decided today won’t be a sad day. I refuse to stay in the sadness. I will carry you with me, not in sorrow, but in remembrance, in gratitude for every memory, every laugh, every moment we shared.
Happy birthday, Mama. 💔❤️
If there’s a Heaven, if there’s a second life, I hope today feels special for you, too. Even if birthdays aren’t a thing wherever you are now, I hope there’s a sense of love surrounding you, just like there is here.
I miss you, but today, I choose love. For you, for us, for every memory that still warms my heart. ❤️
