Monday, February 16, 2015

It's Not His Birthday Anymore

Last Wednesday would have been my son’s 29th birthday. I think I would have had a grand time teasing him about how close he was to being old (almost thirty) and celebrating in general his life if he had lived. It’s hard to predict what special days like birthdays and holidays will be like when it comes to my son as the same memories that make me laugh in nostalgia can make me weep in my grief so I just let the days approach and take them as they come—happy or sad, it all directly speaks of the great love that remains in my heart for my child.

This year brought a new sensation and a new understanding. I knew all day that it was his birthday. It’s not like I forgot or avoided the acknowledgement of it. I even stopped by his picture in my hallway and wished him a happy birthday. Every year since he was born, on Bryan’s birthday, I’ve experienced the distinct feeling of being older. I never get that feeling on my birthday, but on his, without fail, I feel older; But not this year. This year it was like any other day that blended in with all the other inconsequentially ordinary days of my life and yet with the conscious awareness that it was his birthday.

I was up rather late that evening and watched as the clock turned from 11:59 PM to 12:00 AM and the thought ran through my mind, “It’s not his birthday anymore.” Not in a melancholy way, but in more of a “just the facts ma’am” kind of way. Then it occurred to me that February 11th really isn’t his birthday anymore. It’s not the day that he celebrates as his birthday (if they do that kind of thing in heaven). Bryan was born into this life on February 11th and placed in my waiting arms to hold and to love with all my heart but it was on March 27th that he was born into his heavenly life and placed into the waiting arms of Jesus who loves Bryan more deeply and wholly than I can ever fathom. Now that gives me a whole new way to view the anniversary of his death. Yes, I will still stop in the hall on that day and tell him that I miss him, but I will also wish him the very happiest of birthdays too.


Green Grandma said...

What a day of rejoicing it will be when Brian can finally open his arms to you and say, "Happy birthday, Mom." The wait may seem like forever to you, but it's just a matter of moments to him. Much love, my friend.

Common Household Mom said...

The thought of those all-encompassing waiting arms of Jesus can bring great strength. Thank you for writing this.