Yesterday would have been his 4th birthday.
We were supposed to be going out to celebrate his birthday yesterday but a combination of me being ill and Mark and Lukas being lazy meant we didn’t end up going anywhere, which left us all in the house with hours and hours to be reminded of everything that was missing from the day or more accurately who was missing. I tried a few times to write a post yesterday, about how I felt and what the day meant but I just kept finding that I couldn’t find the words. There aren’t words to express how difficult birthdays, and christmas’s and anniversaries are, the only people who could ever truly begin to understand are people who have been through the same thing and even then they might not entirely get it, since everyone feels differently. It’s harder still when you are awake all night beforehand, the day already seems to long, too painful and then you add another 12 or so hours onto it. You look at the clock and you remember what you were doing this time 4 years ago, remember what you have done ever since. You sit on or in bed, almost waiting, to hear the sound of a 4 year old thundering across the landing eager to open presents and cards even though you know it’s never going to come. You ask yourself questions about how you should be celebrating the day and how you would have celebrated the day if things had been different. It’s always a day of questions, of wondering, a day filled with silence and sighs, always has been and always will be. Usually I scrap a layout to him, wishing him a happy birthday, telling him how much I miss him. I do it to replace the card that I don’t get to write, the presents I don’t get to wrap. But yesterday I didn’t. Couldn’t drag up the motivation to create for him and it makes me sad. I always want it to be a layout from the heart but yesterday my heart felt kind of numb. Amputees often say they can still feel the limb there after it’s been removed and that’s kind of the way my heart feels now, it’s like pins and needles and the memory of the hurt that used to be there. I want to feel that hurt again, not because I am some sick sadistic person but because feeling that however much it hurts is better than feeling numb. Yesterday was the first time I hadn’t shed tears over him on one of “his” days. I hated myself for that, almost like he’s watching and thinking I don’t care anymore. But we reminded him last night, that we care, that he’s missed every single day. Last night as we stood in the garden and lit a candle for him, as we sung happy birthday and twinkle twinkle little star loud enough to annoy the neighbours, just to make sure he could hear it. Then we blew out the candle and made a wish, and one look at Lukas told me that we had both wished for the same thing – that we didn’t have to stand alone in the garden to do this, because we both wished that he was still here with us. On wednesday, since it’s the only day we will all be together as a family, we will go and buy a balloon and we’ll light another candle and then let it go all the way to heaven for him to play with. Happy Birthday Leo I hope that you had a great day, even though we weren’t there.