How do you cram fifteen whole years of memories into just five minutes? It’s impossible, you can’t. There are so many lifetimes full of happiness, joy and sometimes heartache in that decade-and-a-half. Tomorrow is pretty a momentus day for me…It’s the first milestone we haven’t been together in my entire adult life. We spent first our 16th, then 18th, 21st and our 30th birthdays together…and there were the engagements, weddings and the birth of our son dotted in between. We traveled the world, built our first home and launched a business. We followed our dreams and crossed the Tasman. It was half a lifetime but, boy was it one led to the full.
Tomorrow Mark would have turned 40. Except he never quite made it. He told his mates only weeks before he died, ‘He who dies with the most hair wins’…and he must have had a real chuckle to himself because yep, he sure did have a mighty damn fine crop of hair. Now he will be immortally 32. No grey hairs, no wrinkles, no balding. Just 32 forever.
There’s heaps of things I’d like to say, to tell him, remind him but he’s been asleep for 2920 days…and while it might have taken me a long time to accept it – for years after, I kept thinking I’d wake up from this shitful nightmare, he’s not ever waking up. Still, it doesn’t stop there being one single hour of any single day when I don’t think about him. It’s impossible. You don’t get to simply forget someone who helped shape your life. He taught me so much about strength and courage. About believing in yourself and following your dreams. He had a heart that was full of love and probably one of the kindest natures you could ever be lucky enough to meet.
On what would have been your big 4-0, Didley, I know you would have knocked the top off a beer or two, maybe even celebrated a bit…but only because I would have made you! There are so many things you missed – our son learning to ride his bike, going off into the big wide world on his first day of school, losing his first tooth and scoring his first goal. Learning to drive his own little rubber ducky and zooming round on his scooter like some crazy daredevil (that bit, we know he gets from you). He’s old enough now that he wants to know every little thing about you and loves hearing the lads tell stories like when a bunch of you took the race truck for a spin down the bottom of the property, hanging on by the skin of their teeth. He wants to be just like his Dad…his little eyes beam brightly whenever someone tells him how much he’s just like you.
We are lucky enough to have the most incredible, beautiful and wonderful man who lights up my life just like you did. Who loves me, adores me and heals me, just like you did. Who takes our son as his own and honours your memory the way you deserve…but hey, what am I telling you this for…? Course, you knew already because you sent him.
So now all we have left are just the memories…but no one and nothing can take your memories, not even death himself. Lov n hugs, Lady MamaG xox
4 thoughts on “For the birthday you never made it to…”
The milestones are always harder aren’t they. Thinking of you.
Sent from my iPad
I don’t know you and just follow your blog! I just wanted to say that was beautiful and you show such courage and strength that I felt compelled to write this message xx
thank you for your lovely thoughts, Lady Mama G xox
Bless you for making sure he is remembered to your son. I lost my mother when I was 7 and one of the worst things has always been people’s reluctance to talk about her or tell me things I will never know about her.