On Your birthday

This month always brings mixed emotions.

Birthdays—my daughters’, mine… and my sister’s.

My sister, who is no longer here with me.

(I’ve written about her before in a post called “Still in My Contacts.”)

The years go by way too fast, and she should be here celebrating her birthday too.

I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately.

Some years, I’ve stayed busy on purpose—out of town, distracted.

Other years, I’ve filled my time with my grandchildren, keeping my hands and heart occupied.

But this year feels different. Heavier.

Maybe it’s because our kids are getting older.

Our grandchildren are growing.

Time keeps moving, whether we’re ready or not.

And there are still days I catch myself wanting to pick up the phone and call her…

and then remembering I can’t.

Even though I know when we were younger, there were weeks we didn’t talk. Life got busy.

But we always knew—we were there for each other. We were still sisters.

I still remember the little things.

Sitting on Granny’s swing, gossiping about people as they walked down the sidewalk, laughing about nothing and everything at the same time.

I keep thinking about the dance competitions.

That weekend I spent with you.

Sitting in the audience, watching your daughter on stage…

and then watching you.

The way your face lit up when she danced.

The pride, the joy… all of it right there.

That’s what I remember most.

And then I think about sitting in that small audience when your son graduated.

Watching him walk across that stage…

and watching you.

That same look on your face.

So proud. So full of love.

It never changed.

And then there was your feisty side.

The side people learned real quick not to mess with.

Let’s just say… you weren’t someone people wanted to make mad.

I still remember sitting at Chili’s, listening to you go off about your job and your management.

No filter. No holding back.

You had that fire in you.

A little bit of a hot head… but in the best way.

It was part of what made you, you.

Today is your birthday.

And it still doesn’t feel fair… or okay… that you’re not here.

Still thinking about you.

Still missing you.

Still laughing at some of it too.