23 years old when you took your last breath.
But it was 30 years ago that your lungs first felt air.
Three decades since you left the warm waters of my womb and introduced yourself to the world.
I wish that I had paid closer attention to each moment,
studied the way you smiled and
with eyes closed, let your voice fill my ears.
I regret not writing your laughter upon my heart,
and not etching every detail of what hugging you felt like.
This isn’t a happy birth day,
It’s a sad anniversary of birth – as each January 12th has been since the day you took your last breath.
I birthed you. I buried you.
I love you as much today as I did that first day your beautiful blue eyes found mine, and even more.
Mom.
If you’d like to see a music/photo thingy we made for her celebration service, you may watch it here: https://youtu.be/a4uIQaSVR7c
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