Birthday - Living with Grief

Dear Ariella,

Today is your 13th birthday. A milestone birthday. Finally a teenager (though you had the attitude of a teen by the time you were 8) and you’re not alive to see it. What we should be doing this weekend: Not a big party, since you would have just had your bat mitzvah, but maybe a sleepover with a couple of your friends. Or a mother-daughter trip to New York to take in one of the shows you’ve been wanting to see. Or a road trip adventure to someplace you’ve never been. Definitely dinner at one of your favorite restaurants. Since this is fantasyland I am imagining what we would have done had there not been a pandemic this year. Though it shatters me to think about it, I can’t not picture what this day would look like if you were alive.

Your birthdays were always extra special because we celebrated with Pop-Pop, whose birthday is the day after yours. Did I ever tell you that when I was in labor Pop-Pop actually said to hold on until the next day so you would be born on his birthday? He was joking of course (I think). This after you were already 10 days late. You always did do things on your own time, never in a rush. In fact I think you are the slowest person I have ever known. Anyway, your last birthday with Pop-Pop was in 2015, though of course we didn’t know that then. Just 4 months later he died and we were definitely missing him on your 9th birthday.

This picture above was your 9th birthday, your last normal, birthday. We missed Pop-Pop but unbelievably it was going to get worse. Our world was about to implode. On your last normal birthday you got a phone call from Mickey Mouse (or maybe it was Goofy) telling you that you would be going on a Disney Cruise and trip to Disney in April. That trip never happened. Little did we know that your hurt leg was more than just a dance injury. That it was cancer cells, mutating and growing, about to change our lives forever. Little did we know how much our lives would change. Never could we have imagined that you would live through only 2 more birthdays and that you would be fighting for your life for both of them.

I am glad you got the opportunity to experience what it feels like to fly on your 11th, your last birthday. The freedom, the weightlessness, a few minutes away from the cancer and illness and fear. There is no feeling quite like it. I wish that I could fly, leave this earth, and join you where there is no more sadness, pain, fear, and illness.

What do I want you to know on this milestone day, this 2nd birthday without you? I’m struggling. I’m sad and empty. Many would say that you would want me to be happy, that I should be happy for you. But I disagree. Not with you wanting me to be happy. Of course you do. You didn’t want to see anyone hurting, you always wanted to make them feel better. But you always understood that it was okay to be sad and scared and worried and it was okay to express those feelings. In fact you often expressed those feelings, and quite loudly I might add. You were never taught to hide them and put on a happy face for the sake of others and you wouldn’t want me to do that either. You would want me to be happy, but in my own time, and for me, not for anyone else.

Not much has changed since your last birthday, other than it’s just harder. It’s harder to get through the days. I miss you more and more each day. I miss your laugh, your smile, your hand in mine. I miss the excitement you had for your birthdays and the anticipation for Halloween. Random memories pop into my mind with no rhyme or reason and I love them, but they also feel like a sucker punch to the gut. I wish I had taken greater note of the memories we had but how could I have known? Not the big memories, but the smaller moments. The mundane ones that made up our lives. The funny things you said or did. The little things that you don’t think you have to remember because they will always be there and moments like that will continue to happen. I thought we would have had a lifetime of moments, a lifetime to make memories, not just 11 years and 7 months. Each day, each milestone, each birthday, each year, takes me farther from those memories. But yet they also bring me closer to joining you. Time is both a gift and a curse but mostly a curse. Because there is so much time left without you.

Things have been hitting me extra hard lately. I had to leave an exercise class early the other day because of a song. I have gotten teary in many a class but this time there was no way I could stay. I have never left a room so quickly, but to be fair, “Tears in Heaven” is a sad song on a good day. I had asked you for a sign earlier that day and I wondered if that was it. If so, next time I need happier, more uplifting sign! Or at least wait until I’m not in a public place. Everything is a trigger, everything brings up a memory. I would say it’s the time of year, but it’s always the time of year. After your birthday is Halloween and the holidays, and then we are getting back into diagnosis day and February, the beginning of the end. I am constantly plagued by the “what ifs” even though they won’t change anything. Initially, when you were diagnosed and during treatment it was “what if the treatment doesn’t work?” “What if you relapse?” “What if you die?” We imagined the worst case scenario and were terrified, but we couldn’t really imagine it. My thoughts went there but didn’t stay there. Because there was always hope. But after you relapsed it was “what if we had done something differently?” The wondering doesn’t do anyone any good but I can’t shut off those thoughts.

I’m still uncertain as to what I believe happens when you die, but one thing that I am certain of is that if you are still alive in spirit somewhere, you are with Pop-Pop and you should celebrate both days together. I would say eat lots of cake but you never were much of a cake person so have your favorite taco salad, and churros and ice cream. Daddy and I are going to celebrate your life with the same at your favorite restaurant. I’m sure you’re with your friends, probably planning some epic pranks. Please don’t forget to throw some signs our way amongst your partying. Here are just a few random pictures from some of your birthdays over the years.

I love you kiddo, to the moon and back, infinity times. There is so much more I want to say to you, but will keep that between us rather than on the blog. Just know that I love you always, miss you always, and look forward to the day we can be together again.

Love,

Mommy

Twelve years ago today, at 6:00 in the morning, Ariella Paige made her grand entrance into this world. The weather today is actually similar to the weather when we brought her home from the hospital. It was quite hot, too hot even for me to take her for walks in the stroller. Anyway, like everything else she did, she took her time getting here, making her debut a week and a half late. Even taking her time through labor, causing me to end up having a c-section. That day was the happiest of my life. I had always wanted a little girl though I really thought I was having a boy. Ariella filled a part of me that I didn’t know needed to be filled. She completed our family and we were looking forward to a lifetime of happiness. She was perfect and healthy at birth and at that time we never could have imagined the heartbreak to come just less than 12 years later.

Ariella had her whole life ahead of her. She was a precocious child filled with light and exuberance and joy. She wasn’t perfect, not by any means. She was stubborn and had a temper and attitude that could rival any teen. But she was also fiercely independent and a leader among her friends. She didn’t get caught up in drama and was kind to everyone she met. She loved hard, she didn’t hold grudges, and she was generous, compassionate, and sincere. Her spunky and feisty personality is what got her through those two years of hell, never letting cancer stop her.

By her first birthday Ariella was always on the move and began a lifetime of non-stop talking. Her second birthday brought the start of gymnastics, preschool, and the terrible twos. Though we found the year she was three much more challenging than the year she was two. She was stubborn and had quite the temper, which were traits that she carried to the end.

Ariella always loved her birthdays (what child doesn’t). Her love of the fall and animals led to parties on farms and her love of crafts led to painting and crafting parties. But regardless of the theme we always celebrated in some way, as all families do.

Her Pop-Pop’s birthday is the day after Ariella’s and they were always celebrated together with a dinner out.

The last birthday celebrated together, her 8th and his 72nd. Her Pop-Pop died 4 months later

Ariella’s 9th birthday was the last one before everything went to shit. Her leg pain had started by then but we thought it was just an injury. She was super skinny because she had lost an alarming amount of weight and we were trying to figure that out with her pediatrician. Cancer was never a thought, especially when blood work came back normal. Who could have guessed that less than 4 months later our lives would be completely turned upside-down, not for the last time?

Even with all the hell we had been through we did not imagine after diagnosis that Ariella would have only 2 more birthdays. Her 10th birthday started in the hospital but she was discharged early that morning so she got to have a sleep over with her friends that night.

This was the day before her birthday, a party in the hospital room thrown by child life

And finally her 11th birthday. The last one. Even with the relapse we did not imagine she would only have 11 birthdays. She was feeling great most of the time and happy and vibrant. Those who didn’t know her would never have known she was sick. Being true to her fearless self Ariella had an indoor skydiving party.

And then February 26th, 2019. Her bone marrow transplant, often referred to as a re-birthday. Oh how excited and hopeful we were. And I felt it was such a good sign that it was the day after the 3rd anniversary of my father’s death. They had those connections. Their birthdays being 1 day apart, and just having a close relationship. If only. That day is the one birthday of any type I wish we didn’t have. Because that day, the day that was supposed to help her live, is what caused her death.

How? How did she only live 7 months after her 11th birthday? I just don’t understand it. I will never understand it. I still can’t believe this is it. We have to go on without her. We have to wish her happy birthday in Heaven. She should be here. We should get to celebrate 12 with her and every birthday after that. We should be celebrating the last year before her teen years (even though she already had the attitude of a teen). She should be studying for her Bat Mitzvah. I just can’t. I can’t do this. This is impossible. It is unbearable.

This has not gotten any easier. In fact, it seems to keep getting harder and harder. Life continues to go on, the seasons change, and one day continues to turn into the next. There is so much growth and activity surrounding me and yet I feel stagnant, rooted to May 9, 2019 at 4:21 PM when Ariella took her last breath. Because that moment is when I too died. I am not the same person, will never be the same person. All the best parts of me died along with Ariella that day.

This year, instead of a noisy sleepover at our house we celebrated Ariella’s birthday without her, where she would have wanted to be, at Build-a-Bear to build bears to make other children feel better. Instead of taking her out to one of her favorite places for dinner we are gathering at the cemetery, sending her messages that we dream about telling her in person. Instead of her getting upset with us for singing Happy Birthday to her (she hated that and actually had a meltdown over it at one of her parties) we can only hope that she hears us singing to her from Heaven. I still get to celebrate my Dad and Ariella together, but this time it’s at their grave sites. It is all wrong. So very wrong. Two of my favorite people have died. The most important person in my life died. I don’t want to live without her. I don’t want to do this anymore.

Tag: Birthday

13th Birthday

12th Birthday