giniesaucedoToday is my dad’s birthday.
He would have been 66 today, and we wouldn’t have celebrated it because we’ve never celebrated birthdays (it’s a religious thing).
Part of me wishes we had celebrated them because I’d have more memories to comfort me now that he’s not here (and I’m totally assuming they’d be happy ones which given our family history … they probably wouldn’t have been 😂).
Part of me feels like it wasn’t about celebrating them or not, it’s facing the fact that we could have been more intentional with our time together regardless (regret is a part of the grieving process).
Part of me is asking God directly whether or not He approves of the celebration of our birth. (FYI: no clear answer … yet).
I used to be very judgmental of those that did celebrate. This has changed.
I see both sides of the “argument.”
Then there’s the heaviness I feel around the 65 years we did have him. It feels like it wasn’t enough.
It takes constant effort to dance with the duality of it all.
It wasn’t enough AND we had 65 years with him.
There’s the loss AND the love.
It’s a day full of emotions and I’m feeling them all.
“God, I’m not sure how you feel about birthdays. I’d like to think the day we are born is important to You. If you remember and call each star by their name, it’s probably even easier for you (and more important) to remember the day we’re born and that’s saying a lot considering how many peoples you have to keep track of. Either way, I’m thankful you created my Pops and I really wish we had had more time. I know you will redeem this loss one day, but for now . . . Please comfort my aching heart in whatever way You see fit. Thank you. I love you.”