Tomorrow is my birthday. The past couple of years, birthdays with my dad have been different since he got sick. It wasn't about a phone call or hearing him say the words "happy birthday"—it was about him being there. He was always present. Whether it was him being there for a dinner or a bigger party with friends and family, he always was there.
This year, I'm facing my first birthday without him, and it's hitting me hard.
Grief is such a strange, heavy thing. It sits in my chest like a rock, an unwelcome reminder of the absence that now defines days in an inconsistent way. There's this knot that forms in my throat, a tightness that will just come out of nowhere. It’s the weight of missing someone who was incredibly important to me, someone whose presence I felt in every moment of my life.
Tomorrow feels daunting. It's not just another day on the calendar; it's a milestone, a stark reminder that life is moving forward. I wish I could say that I know how to navigate this, but the truth is, I don't. I'm learning, one day at a time, what it means to live with this kind of loss. This birthday is just the beginning—there will be so many firsts without him. The holidays are coming up, and with them, the traditions that our family built together. It's hard to imagine Thanksgiving without his laugh echoing through the house or Christmas Eve without his dance moves in the kitchen.
I know I’m not alone in feeling this way. Grief is universal; it’s something we all experience in different forms. But knowing that doesn’t necessarily make it easier. It’s still overwhelming. Sometimes, it feels like I’m drowning in it, like I’m being pulled under by a current I can’t see. Other times, it’s just this dull ache, a constant reminder that he’s gone. I miss him so much, and the reality of him not being here to celebrate these moments with me feels like a wound that hasn’t begun to heal.
I guess I just want to acknowledge that it’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to feel lost and sad and like things might never get easier. Because in those moments, it’s important to be gentle with yourself, to let yourself feel whatever you need to feel. There’s no right or wrong way to grieve. And even though I know the sadness will fade with time, I’m learning to sit with it for now, to let myself mourn all of the things I miss about my dad.
Tomorrow, I’ll try to honor him in the little ways—maybe I’ll play his favorite song or make a toast in his memory. I’m not sure yet. But I do know that he would want me to find joy where I can, even in the midst of all this pain. And maybe that’s the best way I can celebrate this birthday: by remembering him with love and allowing myself to feel whatever comes up.
So, here’s to the firsts—no matter how tough they may be. Here’s to finding strength in the memories and allowing ourselves to grieve the way we need to. Here’s to honoring those we’ve lost, and to holding onto the love they left behind.
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