My mom would have turned seventy today. I wonder how she would have looked. Would her hair still be red? Would she have any new laugh lines around her eyes? I bet she probably wouldn’t appear all that different than the last time I saw her. She was always so young at heart, and never looked or acted her age. I’m past the shock and disbelief that she was taken in an instant. I no longer have to stop myself from dialing her phone number. I’ve accepted her death. I’ve moved beyond the anger as well, but there will always be a void in my heart and tears that well up in my eyes. Daughters need their mothers, no matter how old they are. I’m sad that she wasn’t here to witness some of the most important moments in my life thus far. She would have been cheering; always my biggest fan. Now that I have a daughter, I understand that love.
I miss you, Mom. Happy Birthday.
P.S. There wasn’t any cake in the house, but I ate some potato chips for you today.