the new normal

It's been 5.5 years since my mom died and today would've been her 71st birthday. But I never got to say happy birthday after she turned 65 in 2009. To honor her and cherish the love and incredible bond we shared I decided to sip on her favorite Pinot Grigio while I combed through many of the cherished written sentiments we had sent each other other the years. My mom saved every single card I think (found some dating back to 1990!) - and whatever I could find in each and every dresser and nightstand drawer after she died I packed up and took with me. I also saved many of the ones she had sent me and the countless notes she and I left each other in my childhood bedroom each and every time I would come home for a visit. Writing notes was always our thing and I'm incredibly grateful to have them with me today.

I'm not sure if it was the hand written note from the night of my very first date when my high school boyfriend came to the door to pick me up or if it was the note where she told me I have to learn how to say sorry in conversation because I can't write my husband notes to "make up" (ha ha) or if it was reading the last birthday card I gave her in 2009 just days before I moved away to LA or the last card I got from her before she got sick, Hanukkah 2009 but something sent me into a fit of tears. And then out came the gut wrenching cry that you feel deep in your soul as your heart aches and your stomach turns and you just cry harder and harder.

Even though I know the pain never leaves you and there's no measurement of time with grief, I still am sometimes shocked that after the time that has passed it can still take me out like that. Like I can cry as if it was all just yesterday. Then I realize it's not that it gets easier as people tell you, it's more that you learn to adapt and one day you just realize this is your "new normal" and you just keep on living. A piece of your heart is missing and will never be replaced but you remember life has so much more to give so you march on. And so does the pain, still present, still marching as you move forward.

On days like today though I allow myself to sit in it because I know that's healthy to do from time to time and on a day like her birthday I know we both deserve that. In reading her written words it strikes such a chord with me and sometimes it's still too much to bare. Then I find myself imagining all the happy milestones I (hopefully) still have to come and I simply can't imagine how they are going to be all that happy without her there. I just can't imagine choosing to spend my life with someone I'm head over heals in love with and not having her there to embrace in that moment. I have no doubt she'll send a hummingbird my way on those days but obviously it's just not the same. Then I have to remind myself that there's no sense fretting over those moments today - instead today she'd want me to be living, loving, and laughing as she did to the fullest extent. So with that in mind, with my freshly yellow manicured nails in honor of mom, I pour myself another Pinot Grigio and I raise my glass to the women that 100% made me the woman I've grown to be, and who in losing continues to shape me into the resilient and strong person I am today.

Here's to you mom, happy birthday. You will always be my #1.

xoxo