Many months ago I talked to my family about my apprehension of reaching the day when Annie had lived longer than Maddie. Later, someone did the math and realized that the dreaded day would come on June 19th… my mother’s birthday.
This did not sit well with my mother. Her mother (my grandmother) emigrated from Portugal, and brought with her to the New World many Old World superstitions. While my mother dismisses most of them, she nonetheless worries that things “mean something” or “are a sign.” She will also stop you from talking about plane crashes if you are due to get on a plane because she worries you will “jinx” your flight.
Considering all of that, you can see why my mother was a little unnerved. Deep down she knew the fact that this sad day fell on her birthday didn’t “mean something,” but was still sad that her birthday was tied to the loss of her granddaughter. She’d gone through something similar a few years earlier when her sister Legia died on her birthday.
I reassured my mother this did not “mean something.” The calendar was invented by man, I told her. It holds no mystical meaning. It’s just an arbitrary date and there’s no reason why she should feel any worse about it than if the day fell on any other date.
Of course at the time I didn’t realize that the day not only fell on my mother’s birthday, but Father’s Day as well. Suddenly this tough day became just a little bit harder to get through even for me, Mr. Level Headed.
Heather wrote such an eloquent post yesterday about what this date feels like that it captured what I am feeling as well. There is one thing she didn’t touch on though that I can’t seem to get over. It’s that while I became a parent nearly four years ago, only today am I father to a child who is a day older than seventeen months old. I’m only now reaching where I should have been on April 8th of 2009.
It’s so hard not getting to watch Maddie grow any older. Yesterday I went to Dr. Looove’s office to get my stitches out, and while in the waiting room I saw a little girl about the age Maddie would be if she was still here. It blew my mind to watch her hold a full conversation with her mother, and to think that I should be able to have full conversations with Maddie too.
I know that one day soon I will sit down and have a full conversation with my other sweet little girl, and it will be wonderful. But I will never, ever stop longing for the one with my sweet Maddie Moo.
I am so sorry with what you’re going through. My thoughts are with you and Heather.
Ashley Hast says:
Nothing I can say to help or change the crappy way some things are, but you’re all in my thoughts & prayers.
It must be so hard. I wish I had words…
I wish I had the words to take the pain away….thinking of you.
Hugs to you too!
I lost fours siblings when they were young. Two were older than me and in my mind, I still see them as little kids, even though I have outlived them. They will always be my big brothers and little sister and brother and are never forgotten.
It hurt my heart that you will not have that conversation with Maddie. Hugs and love.
You took the words right out of my mouth, it is…just a day. But sometimes we ascribe meaning to days because we need to mark an occasion. Perhaps you feel like it’s not okay to break down every day with grief at this point, but on a symbolic anniversary day, perhaps it’s more okay. Whatever you need to do to keep your sanity intact. Sending warm thoughts your way.
Sending you friendship, support & love. I adore you all and miss Maddie t00!! I hope you all feel at least a little better!!! Love, Jenn
Have you guys read “Heaven Is For Real” by Todd Burpo? You guys will have your day with Maddie again. Happily Ever After.
It must have been so hard to spend Father’s Day without the first girl who made you a daddy, especially on the day her sister became older than her. I’m so sorry. I wish, somehow, I could make it easier on you and Heather.
I kind of understand your mother because my mom has had a similar situation with her birth date. Her grandfather, my cousin and our dog all died on her birthday in different years of course. That has always bothered her, but thankfully not to the point of her being worried or concerned when her birthday comes.
I heard something about grief that while we expect it to get easier with time, it actually gets harder in lots of ways. With each step forward in time the distance grows, and that hurts. That all you can do is take it one day at a time is trite but true.
Sendng lots of love and hugs to the Spohr house today!
Oh Mike, so many good wishes to you all.
My boyfriend’s mother died more than 20 years ago on his birthday, and he has never felt cause to celebrate it since. Even after all this time, the day his mother passed was difficult for him. Then 2 years ago, our youngest daughter was born on his mother’s birthday. I told him I thought it was a sign to start celebrating life again. It was very special for him (for us), and now his birthday has become a little easier for him.
I can’t say that the loss of your sweet Maddie Moo will ever get easier for you, your mother, or anyone else, but I hope that one day the dates won’t be so hard.
mary c says:
My friends little girl would have just turned sixteen. She lost her when she was three. 13 years later she still longs for every moment lost. My heart goes out to you all! Lots of hugs with love! I wish I took tell you dates will get easy, they just will be different dates.
God bless you and Heather and your sweet Annie. I can’t even begin to imagine, and I don’t know how you do it.
I’m so sorry, I wish there were some comfort for you.
Thank you for sharing. Both your post and Heather’s about day 515 are beautifullly written. I too wish you could have a conversation with Maddie as well as Annie.
One of our son’s died 2 days before my birthday and they other died 4 years later on Christmas night (we are Jewish so I guess it could have been worse). I am not ok with my birthday or Christmas – not sure that I ever will be.
Take care and thank you again.
Sending love your way
No words…just love…to your whole family.
My heart aches for you, Mike. I hope you are soon able to have sweet conversations with your Maddie Moo, in your dreams.