Calendar is creeping up on me and that feeling annoys me. It’s March 9th, which would have been my great aunt’s 100th birthday. Which means Tuesday will be my mom’s 9th birthday she’s spent with wings. The fact I have to double check now irks me in a way I can’t explain and makes me sad that it’s almost been 10 years. I didn’t really expect much but once I felt the overwhelming feeling of dread last Friday at my abdominal ultrasound appointment, it made sense. The overall fact that I’m aging, inching closer to the age where my mom left forever, is starting to set in. While it’s giving me a perspective I feel lucky to have, it comes with a very heavy cross I forget I still bear.

She would have turned 66 on Tuesday. It’s so wild to say that because honestly I  always told my mom she was prettier than Cindy Crawford because I genuinely thought so. I told her every night: “Goodnight God bless you, I love you, sweet dreams – you’re prettier than Cindy Crawford ma” She never seemed to age. Her chocolate brown hair, her beautiful olive skin, her squinty brown eyes, her long fingers with silver spoon rings and gold and diamonds on every finger. Her nails and toes always done. I don’t think she would have aged even if she was still here. She’d still be shopping like a maniac, making nail appointments for Veni and her, and dropping hints for what she was wanting for her birthday this year. I’d do anything to hit wits end, homegoods, persnickety’s, and the beauty supply store to get her the perfectly rounded and well thought out birthday spread. Trying to find something she didn’t already own or order. Allie reminded me last night of Persnickety’s and it was like another secret kept, only we know and only we remember. And it’s not the first time I’ve realized these little secrets have turned to treasures we get carry around and honor her with when we do in fact remember. And conversations turn to late night thoughts which turn to tears and then usually a blog for me to sort all these feelings out.

I don’t know if I’ll ever sort them out.

She’ll still turn 66 on Tuesday, March 11th – and I’ll still celebrate by having her favorite dessert. We’ll sing to her, and her grandbabies will blow out her candles and laugh and then look at me to see if I’m crying or not. Their precious little souls have grown up witnessing all the emotions of a mom without a mother. Some I wish I could have saved them from, but also understanding they were built to be the little precious treasures they are, made for a mama without her own. That realization still hurts my daughter heart.  

I’d do, almost anything. To see her. To be able to hug her. To call her for a very long overdue, full conversation. I’d cry and complain and we’d definitely laugh. We’d make a plan to hang out and for dinner or coffee or all the above. I’d do anything to have her nuzzle her face in my ear when she kissed me hello or goodbye. To yell at her for smoking a cig. I’d do anything to lay in bed next to her and watch Dr. Baden Medical examiner and tell her this is why she can’t sleep at night, while she lotioned her tan legs and perfect mom feet. I’d do anything to stop and get her a tea, and bring it to her kitchen table for a proper coffee talk. I’d do anything to be able to have her name show up in my schedule at work, and then yell at her when she was 20 minutes late. I’d do anything to pull up into her driveway and see her standing at the door. I’d do anything to watch Veni hold her face in her hands and kiss her the way Mav once did. I’d love to hear her commentary on how beautiful Ace is because he looks just like me, and how she has everything to do with that. I’d love for her to tell Mav how big and grown he’s getting and embarrass him with stories of their short but sweet memories only she holds the keys to. I’d do anything to ask her for advice. To tell her I just need her to listen and not fix. To ask her questions about her health history. To ask her the names of her friends whose kids we backed a car into the rock wall across the street from our house in Saugerties. To list her as an emergency contact, a safe person to pick up or chaperone my kids. To have her sit on the sidelines at all the kids sports and activities. To see her dance with Veni. To see her at Ace’s baseball games, to see her cry at Maverick’s first dance this spring. 

I could go on. And I probably will. March was known as Rita’s birthday month. It’ll always be known as that to me. March can feel so much like spring and so much like sorrow for me. All because I got to love her, and I get to love her still. I know she’s here in the way she can be, because I’ve seen 3:11, 1:43, and RC for the past week. I’ve heard her songs, and I’ve found and felt little things that only make sense because of her. A mother’s love.

So powerful it can transcend time, and all of heaven and earth. I hope that wherever she is, reading this, she knows that my babies know her and miss her. That she is loved and missed in every moment. That she’s the sole reason I can go on with an empty cup. That I can mother, wife, and wear all that hats I do. Because her love was so big, and she rooted for me so loud. She taught me what inner beauty is, and she knew when my sparkle was dull. She showed me what a strong woman was, and when to be soft.  When to lead and when to follow. How to speak my mind and how to live out loud. She taught me most of this when she was here; and in her wake I’m learning still.  Mama, I really would do almost anything to have the roads that lead to your house somehow transport me to another realm where I could sit with you, just for 10 minutes, I’d tell you how thankful I am for everything you did. All the magic you made. The photo albums, memories, birthday parties, sleepovers, vacations, presents, advice, tough love, karaoke Wednesdays, jersey shore trips, shopping sprees, Christmas and every holiday actually, and a thousand other things you created for me. But all I can say, is ~ happy birthday month mamacita. I still needed you 👑🤍✨

I won’t preach on how lucky you are if you can go and do all these things with your mom today, I hope you already know and do 🤍