“Oh” — DMB

And it’s cold and darkness falls
It’s as if you’re in the next room so alive
I could swear I hear you singing to me

I love you oh so well
Like a kid loves candy and fresh snow
I love you oh so well
Enough to fill up heaven overflow and fill hell

13 minutes until my 27th birthday. The night before my birthday has been a struggle ever since Mom died.

Like a typical kid I hated going to bed because I, as I still do, didn’t want to miss anything. But the night before my birthday (Christmas Eve, the night before Field Trip day, etc.) I happily crawled into bed anticipating the wonders of the next day. My mom woke me up most mornings by singing some song off key and my birthday was no different. She’d sing Happy Birthday and I’d get ready in a hurry and barrel down the stairs to the one present I was able to open before school.

The first birthday without her was the hardest. It had been fewer than 3 months and I couldn’t bear the thought of waking up to silence. The birthdays following that were different only in that it got a little easier to sleep. When I started this post I thought, “this year is markedly different from the rest,” but it seems as though I was wrong. I’m not ready for sleep. I’m not ready for tomorrow.

A major loss during one of most formative times in your life affects the way you view everything else. I don’t know whether I’m not ready for my birthday because I miss her and the magic she brought to the day or if it’s the normal progression of things. Birthdays are supposed to lose a little sparkle every year, right?

So as I sit here fighting sleep (like most nights) I’m a little sad, a lot reflective, and so very grateful for the 19 birthday mornings that I had.

(Yes, I know this whole post has been a clusterfuck of poorly arranged thoughts but it’s my fucking birthday so I can do what I want. šŸ˜‰ )


~ by fragmentarie on 13 May 2010.

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