Today is Maggie’s 36th birthday. It’s stunning to me how much I still miss her every day. I’m fairly certain that my saying so has become repetitive, even predictable so I tend to keep it to myself. I would have thought 31 months would have cleaned out the pain. Instead, I’ve learned how to carry it better so that it’s not crippling or defining (or sometimes even noticeable to those who know me.)
In our other life together, today we’d be frantically preparing for a huge party here at the house Saturday night to celebrate her birthday. A whole ton of friends would descend on this well-prepped house for hours of festivities. And then, after all the guests had left for the evening, she and me and two tired puppies would crawl into bed, all smiles. Instead, tonight I’ll attend a different party thrown by some friends, one that in some ways was born from the end of our party. Some of the same friends will be there that would have been at our party. Many attendees will be people I’ve never met. It will be a wonderful party. It will also be the most difficult party I’ll attend this year, by far. There will be one face I always searched for missing. And two hands I used to hold not there. And a voice I won’t hear talk in excited tones about how life is great. And that one, singular beautiful smile I won’t see. It’s hard to fathom how a person can be so sad in the middle of a huge crowd of happy people.
But I’ll put on my party face and pretend. Hopefully this year I’ll only have to excuse myself only once or twice (unlike last year.) If someone sees me in those moments, hopefully they’ll understand why I’m still sad and, even if they are tired of my grief, pretend just for a minute they aren’t. I assure you, I’m tired of it, too.
“Don’t be sad because it’s over. Be happy because it happened.” I keep reminding myself that over and over and over. Such difficult-to-live words that will feel very empty tonight as I stand alone without my angel in the middle of a huge, happy crowd.
Happy Birthday, My Love. I love you no less today than I did yesterday and no more than I will tomorrow. And I miss you every single day.
6 thoughts on “Maggie’s 36th Birthday”
Chris. I hate that all I can say is “I’m sorry”. I hate that you feel that pain. I hate it.
It is most certainly an endless well of pain.
Thinking of you.
Happy Birthday Maggie, wherever you are. Hugs to you Chris.
“Happy Birthday Maggie”..it’s the day you were born that changed many peoples lives. Made them think, made them happy, made them better people. You did make a difference in this world! And most of all Chris’s world!I for one was changed and learned from you how to handle what life gives to you! I will always be grateful………….
I truly feel your pain Chris. Next week will be 2 1/2 years for me on the loss of my wife. My granddaughter was born 2 days after your loss – my wife would have loved so much to be with her. She did get a few months, I guess we can be thankful for that. I understand, I really understand – take care
I, for one, thought you were in fine form at the party and I was glad to have spent some time with you. It’s something we don’t get to do very often in our “vidas locas”. Take care and let’s ride soon brother!
Thinking of you and Maggie on her angel day. Big hug.