MomI wish I could say something profound or meaningful or hopeful or joyous or poignant on what would have been mom’s 68th birthday. But I can’t think of anything at all. It’s been four years now and she has another grandson she’ll never get to see and more missed anniversaries and birthdays and holidays and diapers she would have been thrilled to change. Life is not fair but death is even worse. And grief never seems to die as much as we’d love for it to disappear and leave us alone for just one day.

I miss my mom. I miss her so much and I wish I could call her to tell her that the airline lost my luggage and I had to wear the same pair of jeans for five days even though her youngest grandson peed all over them and Venice is as amazing as she imagined and the new Star Wars movie was really good and I watched a documentary about great fastball pitchers and they referenced Ted Williams and Yaz and the Patriots are really good now still after all those years of losing to Marino over and over again and I got a haircut you’d like because it’s nice and short and Jesus Christ why did you die?