Happy Birthday Mom
Happy Birthday Mom.
Today would have been your 67th birthday.
Your 66th birthday was one for the books. So many of your friends were there and celebrated with you. Despite your cancer and chemo treatments, you still managed to cook up a storm and be an amazing hostess. You found the energy to celebrate until midnight too. All night the laughter ebbed and flowed, sounds that have always marked the gatherings at your house.
What a difference a year can make.
Maybe it’s OK that you didn’t make it to 67. It’s kind of an ugly number anyway.
The last 6 months have been hard without you. Everyone keeps telling me what a wonderful thing I did by dropping everything to look after you, to be your carer, even when you moved into the hospice. I never did it for thanks.
I did it because I loved you.
I think you knew that. And I think you felt that, even when your mind and body faded so rapidly that last week you were alive.
Our relationship wasn’t always easy. It was downright turbulent sometimes. But I always thought about you, even when we were at our most distant. Living in England with so much history around me, there were so many things that always reminded me of you because they were parts of history that you could always talk so passionately about. And I always knew in my heart that if I ever truly needed you I coudl ask for your help.
We were never overtly religious, so I think it would surprise a lot of people to hear me say that I think God let you be in my life after the break up of my marriage to help guide me and keep me strong until I could stand on my own two feet again. Figuratively, literally, and emotionally. I also think God kept you in our lives for the last five, most difficult years that our family ever experienced. You were the glue that kept us together and kept us in touch with our emotions and our humanity.
There’s never been anyone like you to talk to and I miss our chats that would last for hours. Talking to Dad is good, but it’s still not the same. Whenever I learn something new or I achieve something I didn’t think I could, you’re still the first person I want to tell. When I need fashion guidance or need to complain about the men in my life, I still think you’re the best person to talk to.
Most days I’m OK and get on with life, but all too often I grieve the inability to continue making new memories with you.
I want to tell you so badly how happy I finally am: I’ve moved to Newquay, that I live next to the ocean, and I have a job that I like. And in the meantime, Rachid is renovating the garden in our house in our Moroccan home, and I can’t wait to see him again.
As sad as I am that you’re not able to celebrate your 67th birthday today, I am relieved that you’re not alive to see and be affected by the COVID-19 pandemic. I’m glad we don’t have to worry about the increased risk of infection. I’m glad we dont’ have to worry about you needing to isolate yourself from your friends and family, whether you would have been at home, in the hospital, or in hospice. I know you lived for your friends and family and this would have broken your heart for sure.
I’m glad we don’t have to think about your cancer treatment being disrupted, or not being able to take you out to your favourite coffee shops and restaurants. I’m glad we don’t have to think about staying apart in different houses, cities, or countries and not be able to look after you. I’m glad we don’t have to contend with medication or medical service shortages.
I’m glad you could die peacefully and with your family at your side, and know that you were loved.
Happy Birthday Mama.
