Dirt: Tomorrow is my mother's birthday

Tomorrow is my mother's birthday.

My mother that gave birth to me, not the one who lives here in Tennessee and is the "mom".

My mother, who was a puzzle that was missing pieces for most of my life.

She passed away a year ago, July. The anniversary of her death was only a day to me. Not because I am callous, but because I don't make not of death dates. On purpose. 

Last year, her birthday wasn't something that stuck out, terribly. I was a little freaked when facebook notified me. But her being gone was still so new, I was in a daze. This year her birthday is something I am actually aware of. The day has been looming on the horizon since my birthday, 19 days ago.

My whole life she told me we celebrated our first 20 together. She turned 20 years old the day I turned 20 days old. 

I am still processing what an unfinished relationship ours was. We were not close. She had many issues that I could not allow to be part of my life. My life in my 20's and 30's when I was trying to make sense of what I now know are the scars of a childhood spent being raised by children.

But as I entered my 40s, I was almost there. Almost ready to make room in my life for her. Do I regret not having a better relationship? That is complicated. I have raised my girls knowing stability and routine. A family that is not chaotic and full of unfulfilled promises. But part of me is indeed sad that Delaney and Ellie will miss that part of me. The part of me that was a momma's girl until 4th grade. The part of me the knows crazy songs and silly jokes. The part of me that is my mother.

I have spent the past 14 months dealing with a dark depression that I have only shared with a few close friends and Steve. My heart is finally coming out from under the burden of guilt and unsureness about her death. I finally am able to think about her birthday with sadness and happiness, both. She is not here. 

She is not hurting or trying to be happy or trying to not make promises she cannot fulfill. 

But she is also not waiting on me to call or come by and that is the sad part of tomorrow.

Tomorrow is my mother's birthday.