There are two days during the year that I tend to get overly sedimental on. It's not that I scratch these dates out on my calendar with huge sad faces to remember the day is to suck, it just happens. No matter how good my intentions are I seem to remember the date the moment I open my eyes. I find that strange since most mornings I can't remember what day of the week it is.
This weekend was my Grandmother's 89th birthday. Well, what would have been her 89th birthday. No matter how much I tell myself that of my two days this is the happier of the two, I still carry a small lump in my throat until I finally fall asleep at night. Even though in theory I celebrate this day, I mourn it as well. Truth is I miss the woman and feel very cheated that we aren't sitting around eating some cheap box cake from Krogers with a large load of candles on it. I wish I was taking video of my kids clapping to "Happy Birthday" on her lap. I'd love to buy her the most mushy card Hallmark had to offer. I wonder what that would be like.
As this day passes I know the next one nears. Thankfully it's not until snow starts to fall that it starts to swallow me whole.
I'd love to give my Grandmother on large, loud, Happy Birthday from myself and my children. Even though you have passed you are loved, missed, and cherished each day.
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