Faded Memories

Well, I turned 38 yesterday. I must say, I've been a little blue. While I was surrounded by people who love me, my birthday has become one of those days I tend to spend thinking of my mother.

I couldn't sleep the night before, and found myself quite lethargic the next day. Yet I was blessed to be awakened by an excited little girl who couldn't wait to show me what was in her pretty little pink gift bag she and her father had snuck out to get.

Among it's other contents was her favorite movie, Miracles from Heaven. She explained how we could share it if I wanted, to which I readily agreed. We spent the day at an indoor playground, and then had a nice dinner together. I received an enthusiastic call from my daughter, who is away at college, and then from my father. Many people took the time from their busy lives to message me or post on my Facebook wall. All in all, a great day, leaving me feeling special and loved.

My heart was there, but my mind continuously drifted to trying to remember my mother describe the day I was born. I have no idea why the thought persisted or why it suddenly became so important. The memory has faded over the years, but she described it as the happiest day of her life, as most mothers do. I was the 1st and only child she would ever have, yet all I can recall is her saying she looked out the window and noticed it had began to snow.

I tried to picture her face when she was younger, and to imagine what she may have said about her new baby. I tried to envision her smile and the sound of her voice. I had hoped that she might visit me in a dream that night and remind me of her story, but she didn't. With every passing year, I miss her birthday call more and more.

Getting older brings birthdays that aren't about gifts or parties, or even happy occasions for many. For some it's a grim reminder of things we never accomplished but meant to, an ageing body and mind, or times in our lives that are missed but can never be returned to.

Though all these things cross my mind as well, I find comfort in knowing that though memories may fade, taking with them the details of things we thought we'd never forget, their significance lives on forever as moments that mattered in our lives.

For me, my birthday validates that my mother was here, and that she loved while in this world. It reminds me that she had happy memories of her own. Memories that likely faded with time to make room for new ones. Memories that made her who she was, both now gone forever.