March has always been my favorite month. Unlike some people, I love celebrating my birthday which is on the 8th of March. I also love St. Patrick's Day. March is also my college's spring break which is a much needed vacay.
March is also my mom's birthday and my late grandfather's. My pawpaw has been gone for 6 years now and recognizing his birthday has gotten a little easier. My mom's birthday however is on the 11th, only three days after mine. She always told me I was an early birthday present for her.
My mom was 40 when she had me so in some sense I was a miracle. Many women at 40 have difficulty having children if any at all. Of course not only did my mom have me, but a year later she also gave birth to my little sister.
Even though I love my birthday so much, I found that this year, at least on the inside, it was a little more difficult for me. My mom, even though she didn't care for her birthday, always made a big celebration out of mine and my sister's. She knew how much I loved birthdays in general and we always celebrated ours together with a dinner. Even though I tried to make it our decision, she always let me decide where to eat and what to do.
In the early morning of my birthday this past week, I was wide awake with tears streaming down my eyes. I was thinking of her and only her. I was remembering last year when my whole family came up and surprised me with a birthday cake for my 21st birthday. I remember all the times I got to have a sleepover and invite as many friends as I wanted. I especially remember our birthday tradition. On our birthday, we got to choose a movie we wanted to see in theaters, a restaurant we wanted to eat at, and a friend we wanted to take with us. It was my favorite part; getting to spend time with family and friends.
Now, today on her birthday, I am trying not to let it get to me. I am trying to remember the good. She would have wanted me to be happy. She never cared for celebrating her birthday anyways. She always found joy in celebrating me and Brianna. She cared so much for us and always put us in front of herself. I wish I had appreciated that even more when she was alive.
I always took her for granted and I am so sorry for that. I try not to live with regrets and I know that she didn't believe that I didn't appreciate her. But sometimes, I feel like I didn't fully grasp all she had done for me. But I know she is watching me now and I will live my life like she would have expected me too. I will be the daughter she raised me to be.
I love you mom and Happy Birthday!
