When you wake up at 7am, and sink in a pool of tears, I think sharing is cathartic, so here it goes.

I am turning 30 this week. In 2 days. April 11, 2017, I will be 30 years old.

I will be 30 years old, and I don’t have my Mom.

To some, these two things may seem unrelated. Sure, turning 30 can be upsetting, and losing a mother is upsetting, but how does one impact the other? The truth is, for some people, they may not, but for me, it does.

My Mom was the queen of birthdays. It was her thing. It didn’t matter how old you were, or how busy you were, we KNEW our birthday was to be spent with Mom. When we were little it was parties, extravagant parties with perfect decor and food and, in some cases, even costumed characters. Dressing up was a requirement when we were kids. I remember, at one of my brother’s birthdays, Barney was the guest of honor. Me, being the smart ass little kid I was, told a bunch of other kids that Barney wasn’t a REAL dinosaur. Oh, the wrath I endured from my Mom. Birthdays were special, and despite all of the other shitty stuff that happened in our childhood, birthdays were not to be messed with. As I got older, birthdays became family dinners. Either home-cooked, or at a restaurant, it was not optional. She would organize the location, the menu, call the family and make sure everyone, was in attendance. There were no excuses. You just HAD to be there. I took that for granted.

Things are different now, the responsibility to plan these gatherings falls on me and my sister. Over the past 2 years, we still TRY to have them, but it’s not the same. Rarely on the ACTUAL day of our birthday, and typically there’s someone who “can’t make it.” My sister and I don’t “pack the punch” that my Mom did. We lack her ability to MAKE things happen.

Yesterday, I was asked, “so, are we going to do a family dinner for your birthday?” and it was like a punch in the gut. I am turning 30, and have reached a point in my life where there isn’t anyone besides me to make my birthday special. The ONE person who was always the first to wish me Happy Birthday, the first to call, the first to text, the planner who could make everyone else care and show up, the one who could make me feel more special, more loved, than anyone else can, is gone.

This all may seem superficial. A spoiled girl whining that no one cares about her birthday, but unless you knew my Mom, unless you knew how she could make you feel like the most important person in the world with just a phone call, you can’t understand.

Before my Mom got sick, I called her about everything. Everyday. I am not exaggerating. Over the past year, things that seem random, have stopped me in my tracks. Things like leaving on a vacation with my family, buying a new car, registering Kaylin for Kindergarten, are all things I would have discussed at-length with my Mom. I say this a lot, and it is cliche, but without her to guide me, I am lost. I am finding my own way and constantly feel like I am failing. I am turning 30, but I still feel like a child, yearning for unconditional love and support that just isn’t there.

No one did birthdays like Mom. They will never be the same. When I say that I am not sad about turning 30, it’s true. I’m not. I’m sad about turning 30 without her.