My mother’s birthday was on the fifteenth of September. It was the ninth year that I “celebrated” her birthday without her.
My mother died nine years ago, in 2008. In the beginning it was hard. I was especially close with my mom. I told her everything, or as much as any teenage girl told their mom anyway. Even when I went off to college to live in the dorms, I used to stay up late talking to her on the phone.
It’s been nine years since my mother died. I still think about her everyday. Lately, I’ve been thinking about her more, since the birth of my daughter. I wish that my mom could have lived to see my daughter.
But things happen and you can’t change the past. You can only go forward in life.
Every year, I think of my mom on her birthday. I think of how she died. I think of the memories that we shared when I was a child, a teenager, and a college student. Her birthday is not just another day. It is a day to remember the woman who gave birth to me. It is a day to remember the influence that she had on me. And finally, it is a day to remember and then pass the memories on to my child.