Milestones

As if I could possibly forget your birthday. Or that look on your face on Christmas morning. The words you would put onto a Mother’s Day card. The way you would smile and pat your belly like an old man after one of my roast beef and loaded mashed potato dinners. I remember everything. It is a blessing and a curse. I remember shaving your head, while your hair was so thick that it took three or more times to get it looking the way you liked it. I remember what you liked to wear, nothing fancy, as long as it was black. I remember all of your fashion stages as you were growing up, from the blonde tips to the chains around your neck, and all of those track pants and hoodies and hats. I remember measuring your foot against my thumb as I held you after you were born, and I remember how you liked them hanging out of the blankets on your hospital bed so I could grab them as I walked by. I remember how your toes always cracked as you walked across the floor, I remember your face so clearly, your beautiful blue eyes and dimpled chin, and a smile that could melt my heart, I remember you. I remember details until I can no longer breathe.

Milestones are like missiles aimed straight at a grieving parent. We can’t dodge them because it’s as if we have a huge target on our backs, and they’re coming for us. All year I watched your friends turn 30, the celebrations, cakes and candles. I watched their children grow. I watched as they got new jobs, new homes, new reasons for the new smiles in the new photos. Today I posted old photos with old smiles because that is what I have left. Old memories. Still, I’ll never give them up as they are keeping you alive in my mind, and they are what keeps me moving forward, passing all of these milestones.

30 years ago today I became your mother, I only had you. You were all I needed. Some days I don’t feel like a mother anymore, as I watch the ones I know love and care for their children and even some with grandchildren. It becomes even more difficult to identify with them. I am on the sidelines. I am the one wearing the sad smile. I am the one that wishes them a happy birthday and liking their photos on facebook while I cry for you. I can feel a part of me shut down. Those feelings aren’t for me anymore because you’re gone. I was cheated out of them, and now I’m left with memories and milestones. They make me wonder.

I wonder who you would be today. I wonder who you would love. I wonder if you would have children, how many, and who they would look like. I wonder what job you would have and if you would like it. I wonder if you’d still pursue your music. I wonder how you would spend your days. I wonder what you would do for fun. I wonder how you would age, and how the wrinkles and grey hair would add character to your handsome face. I wonder if you would be happy. I wonder what we would talk about.

Then, I imagine that I already know all of the answers. I have built such a wonderful and happy life for you here in my mind. We have endless conversations. You come with me when we’re out on the ocean, at the cabin or at the beach, even when I’m walking the dogs. You are with me. Because I remember you. To Eternity and Beyond, I remember you.