One Year On

Dear Mom,

I know it has been awhile since I’ve written, and I hope you will forgive me. I’ve spent a whole lot of time these past several months focusing inward to try to find my way forward. It has been a difficult, but rewarding journey, and I feel better able to face the Very Hard Days that are on our doorstep. My circle is extremely small, but it’s the most amazing people who surround me right now. I know you’ve guided me on this path and to these people. Thank you, Mama. ❤  I cherish the moments of clarity, calm, joy, and beauty in ways I couldn’t before, and I am so grateful to be living fully in those moments with my people.

This grief thing. It amazes me how time still feels so strange. Has it really been a year since the world turned upside down? As we celebrate your birthday this week, I can’t help but reflect back to last year’s birthday…as we geared up to fight the damn cancer.  I’m so sorry we didn’t see the path that was unfolding, Mom.  I just hope you always, always felt the love and light that surrounded you. That surrounds you still. We still can’t understand how we ever managed to let you go. 

Somehow in all that crush of awfulness, we still found ways to laugh and love, even on the devastating days. I promise we are still finding the ways. Listen extra hard on your birthday so you can hear us all singing to you, and you can hear Jonah toasting to you being TWO! 

Your birthday will be a Very Hard Day. Mother’s Day was one of those too, but honestly, it was Father’s Day that did me in. It has been such a challenge to watch Dad try to find his footing in the vast absence of you. He tells us every day how beautiful you were and how much he loved your life together. You two had such a gentle way of loving and caring for each other, and he misses you with his whole heart. I know you watch over him, so if you could send a little Celia magic into his awareness, we would be forever grateful. 

Amy could use some Celia magic too. Her big beautiful heart just cries out for you, and there is nothing we can do to fill the space that you filled for her, Mama. We’ve seen you at work on her path as well, but there are still deep spaces of sadness in her that we can’t seem to reach. No matter how much we grew up, we always still needed you. Amy needs you a little extra as we head into these Very Hard Days.

I know you are so proud of Eilish’s accomplishments and being the most amazing mom, and I hope you laugh heartily at Jonah’s daily escapades! I also know you love watching sweet Emelia’s travel and life adventures. They are the most gorgeous and accomplished young women, and they are so happy in their lives. I see so much of you in both of them, and best of all, they see it too. I hope you feel how our hearts completely overflow when we talk about you.  There is just something magical about mothers and daughters. 

I don’t know if there is a way grief is supposed to look, but I imagine our ebbs and flows of sadness, carrying on gratefully in your honor, talking to you about all the things, and wishing to see you every night in our dreams is pretty standard. One year on has brought us to a place where the pain isn’t so raw, but it somehow feels more defined and permanent. I can dance around the ache of missing you, but there are still days that take me to my knees. 

I’m starting to understand that I will never stop doing that dance, Mama. Sometimes I can anticipate the cues, and other times they hit me from nowhere. I’m trying to be strong enough to just face whatever the day holds, and maybe that is exactly where I should be at one year on. Even so, I would give anything for one more hug, one more I love you, or one more moment in your presence. Whether it’s one year on or a thousand, I will always wish that we could have stayed in our beautiful life together just a little longer. 

Love you forever, Mom.  Happy Birthday.  I promise I will write again soon.

Xoxo,

Bethy