Day 42: Four Decades

The calendar tells me that I'm forty today.

My mom doesn't remember that fact.

That's hard.

This is it. This is all I get. 4 decades with my mom. I know others have less. But it just doesn't seem like enough.

This morning I was at the birth of a beautiful baby girl, born on my birthday, about 2 and 1/2 hours before sunrise. When I left that birth, the birds were chirping the dawn of a beautiful day. I had some wonderful moments today. So many friends and family members remembered my birthday. Some went out of their way to make the day extra special for me. That meant a lot to me. I had some special moments with my boys. Especially Christopher. He went out of his way to make me feel special today. He even danced with me this morning to Abba's "Dancing Queen". It was the cutest birthday present ever. He made me smile and laugh.

And then, sleep deprived, but on a birthday high, we headed up to spend a few hours with mom and dad. I knew this was my last birthday with my mom. I guess I thought she'd understand that too. But I'm not really even sure she knew it was my birthday most the time I was there. I brought cupcakes and she ate two of them which was great. But I don't think she understood why I made them. She looks so much better. She is up and about more. But my mom is not inside that body anymore. So much of who she was is gone. Her mind just isn't there anymore.

So, I spent my time up there like I normally do...making phone calls, talking to the hospice nurse, getting medications straightened out, cleaning the bathroom, arranging for care for mom so dad could go to his Kiwanis meeting tomorrow. I do all of this willingly and I am glad I can do it. But I can't say there wasn't a part of me that really wanted to "celebrate" my birthday with my mom. I bought her a card and wrote quite a bit inside of it, thanking her for giving me life and for sacrificing for me. I never gave it to her. I don't think it would have made sense to her. And so, the card remains sealed in my purse, most likely forever.

And right now, I am sleep deprived and extra emotional I suppose. But I am so angry and so sad. I will hold on to the little moments today. But overall, this is probably the toughest birthday I have ever had. 6 months ago, I was planning a big celebration for my 40th. I was excited to turn 40. I was looking forward to it. And today, I'm 40. And there was no celebrating. There was, and still is, a lot of pain.

I hurt so much.

My mom is already gone. I will never have another conversation with her about nothing in general...just to talk. I will never hear her laugh again. I will never be able to seek her advice again. I will never have her hug me again in the way only a mom hugs her child.

She is gone. Now it is simply a waiting game for her body to join in. Now, it is simply about keeping her comfortable as the cancer continues to take over.

Today I had to face that the mom I knew is gone.

Today I looked into her eyes and they weren't the eyes that have looked back at me my entire life.

Today I looked at my dad and saw his pain. It is becoming very visible. He is so worried about mom. He's losing weight. I want to protect him. But I can't protect him anymore than he can protect me from the pain that keeps coming and coming.

I'm forty today. But I feel like I'm 10. And I'm scared and I want my mom to wrap me in her arms and tell me it's going to be okay. But my mom is gone. And it's not going to be okay. And the 10 year old girl and the 40 year old woman in me misses my mom so much.