thank you mommy.
it is my birthday today. and you are the reason i am here.
and sadly, you are not here anymore..
this morning i was sure i’d hear you speak to me. but i didn’t.
no dream, no magic, just longing.
it has gotten easier on a day to day basis of course. it is almost cruel how it happens. i start to think i’m coping great and the grief process is coming to a close and then WHAM i feel like you died yesterday.
but it wasn’t yesterday, it will be 7 months tomorrow. and 16 months since you were diagnosed. and then 9 months till you died. diagnosed in october. died in july. diagnosed in october. died in july. there is no rewriting that damn story.
i remember my birthday last year. my friends came over and we had lunch with you. and i smiled through the pain of knowing what lied ahead.
i knew it was probably the last birthday i’d have with you.
and i savored that lunch and that day and that night. and i tried to make it last. i tried to slow it down.
but i couldn’t.
nobody could and nobody can.
illness takes over.
time continues to pass.
and ultimately you did too.
at least we had those last 9 months together. at least we had the chance to say it all.
it could have been worse right?
at least there were no surprises…just the harsh reality of the situation.
i’m 39 and still feeling like a child, and hoping that i’ll have the opportunity to live longer than your too fast 65 years. and counting my blessings along the way.
i know you’d say "jenny look at all you have!" and you’d be right.
i do have so much to smile about and so much to hope for.
i just wish you were here to smile with me.
thank you everyone for the birthday wishes, presents, cakes, and constant good thoughts.
your support has helped me more than i could ever properly say.
facebook: jennifer koppelman hutt