... is not a major holiday. It's just August 19. There are a lot of people who will be celebrating birthdays today, I'm sure. I will be celebrating one too. Not mine, but my first son's. It's not a day anyone in my family acknowledges. To them it's just another day. August 19th. To me it was a day that changed who I am and challenged everything I believed.
Death is funny. It's less about the deceased and more about the people left to miss them. And people say you'll get over it when there's been a significant tragedy, like the death of a child. They say you'll have more. And you do. Or at least I did. But still... with every holiday and Christmas, or every birthday there's always a tinge of sadness buried underneath the happy facade. How much more this moment would be if that person wasn't missing from this event. My son would be turning nine. I see Tom and I wonder sometimes what kind of boy my first son would have been. Would he be quirky and funny. Would he be rough and tumble or artistic and musically inclined?
I try not to think on it too much. I just like to recognize every year that one little person entered the world, even for a brief while, and ... well anyway.
Happy Birthday, son.