Tomorrow is my birthday. Do you keep up with stuff like that in heaven? I don't know. I wouldn't want to keep up with birthdays in heaven. Or keep up with anything in particular for that matter.
So, tomorrow, I will be thirty-six. Somehow, I never dreamed I'd be turning thirty-anything without you in the world. Or forty or fifty-anything either. It's so weird. Weird to still have so much to share with you and yet you're gone.
Today, if you were still alive, we would have convinced dad to keep the kids while we drove to Wetumkpa to Southern Homes and Gardens for their annual Christmas Open House. We started going back when I was Madalyn's age. I remember walking around in amazement at the coordinated trees and decorations. We never had anything that fancy in our house. Our stuff was hodgepodge and handmade, but beautiful nonetheless. At Southern Homes and Gardens, everything matched perfectly and the trees were full with stunning ornaments and lights. Like a Christmas fantasy world with price tags. You always bought me an ornament, and when my grandmother went with us, she did the same.
We would have gone, and we would have maybe gone to Belk. And then we'd have gone back to your house and visited a while. And then I would drive home with the kids for a normal Saturday night around here. But there's nothing normal anymore. Like my birthday... tomorrow... and I'd rather just pretend it wasn't a day unlike any other.
It's hard to imagine a birthday without the woman who gave birth to you.
I'm so tired of missing you. I never knew what people meant before when they said, "Come quickly, Lord." But I do now. For when He comes, I won't miss you anymore. We'll be together again in some capacity. I don't suppose I'll need a Mama in heaven, but it will be so nice just to feel your presence again.