Tag: birthday

I’m So Glad You Were Born

Published on by Anna Ortiz SpencerLeave a comment

I wish heaven had visiting hours… Unknown

It’s your birthday, Mom. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the idea of you not being here. Three years have passed and on most days I still sit in disbelief. It’s a constant, unwelcome feeling and one that hits harder on holidays and special occasions like your birthday.

Today especially, I’m reminded of how many lives you’ve touched and how there are dozens of us who are better for knowing you. It’s crazy but if any one of us could know the impact of our lives on others, I think we would crumble under that reality. And that’s why I thank God that you were born. In your own quiet way, in your own corner of the world, and in our family YOU have made all the difference. Truly, I sit in awe of your sphere of influence.

They say the greater the love, the greater the loss. There are no truer words. Today there are no big celebrations, only quiet remembrances. Happy heavenly birthday, Mom. You are incredibly loved and so immensely missed.

Empty Chairs, Everywhere is a personal grief diary as I process the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.

The Trouble with Birthdays

Published on by Anna Ortiz SpencerLeave a comment

“Life doesn’t come with a manual, it comes with a mother.” — Unknown

It’s my birthday. The big 4–8. I’m celebrating it exactly the way I like…quietly. I always tease my family about what a big deal this is…like April is my birthday month, then there is pre-birthday week, birthday week, birthday eve, the actual birthday, post-birthday week, etc. It’s obnoxious and fun, but especially funny because I’m not really a big deal birthday kind of girl.

Today, I am especially thinking about my Mom and missing her a lot. It seems fitting that one would give thanks to the woman who gave one life. My Mom used to text me first thing in the morning and then call me later in the day. She would always tell me that she knew it was my birthday because she would get phantom labor pain to remind her of this day. It was the same joke every year, but we laughed about it every time. I miss her giggle.

When your Mother passes away birthdays hit differently. Who else can say they’ve known you in the same way that your Mother has? This is the trouble with birthdays. When your Mom is gone you grieve her on her birthday..and then you quickly realize that you grieve her on every other birthday as well.

Empty Chairs, Everywhere is a personal grief diary as I process the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.

Is There Birthday Cake in Heaven?

Published on by Anna Ortiz SpencerLeave a comment

“Count your life by smiles, not tears. Count your age by friends, not years.”

Is there birthday cake in heaven? I really want to know.

It’s been two years since you died, and I’m trying to resist the urge to phone or text to see how you’ll spend your day. It still doesn’t feel right, you not being here.

You would have been 65 this year. In some ways, it’s a milestone and maybe even the last one short of turning 100. As much as you loved working with kids, the idea of retirement was very much on the horizon. We talked about what it would be like to have more of the day to yourself and to have time to do the things you wanted. We talked about visits and taking in more of the grandchildren’s activities. Collectively, our family was about to enter a busy season of high school and college graduations…and after that new jobs, weddings, etc.

Instead, on your birthday weekend, we were together…as part of the second annual March to Remember to honor loved ones lost to COVID-19, those dealing with long COVID symptoms, and the medical community who continue to work hard as we go through this pandemic. Your granddaughter organized the Garden City portion of this national event. You would have been so proud! There were hugs, tears, memories, sorrow, laughter, joy —and eventually pizza, but no cake. We miss you, Mom. Happy Birthday. You are loved and so dearly missed.

Empty Chairs, Everywhere is a personal grief diary as I process the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.