It was supposed to be a routine visit to see your mom…just a random Thursday that you happened to be in town. Your last few visits had upset you, as you saw your mom in decline – difficulty putting a name with your face, not wanting to get out of bed, speaking softly with her eyes closed. Doctors were consulted, medicinal dosages were altered in hopes that these physical changes were pharmaceutical aberrations and not something more dire. There was no warning or foreboding intuition of what the morning would bring.

Minutes later you would be holding a warm and familiar body containing a  heart that no longer beat. Hope turns to despair, faith to doubt, firm ground suddenly giving way to the quicksand of confusion, fear, and shock. My phone rings, your picture shows in the display and I instinctively smile. The sickening sound of your tears and the catch in your voice are alarming – what’s happened, are you alright, have you been in an accident? Mama’s gone…what? Mama’s gone…

And just like that, everything comes to a crashing halt, but absolutely nothing stops.

Take your time, but if you don’t want to be charged for the room, we’ll need you to get everything out.

Sorry for your loss, but the contract on the sell of your mom’s house is no longer valid.

I know this is a difficult time but we’re going to need a check to cover the unpaid funeral expenses.

Take as much time as you need from work, but payroll is due.

We walk down the hallway of the memory care facility with the smell of bleach and antiseptic clinging to our nose. At the end of the corridor is an elderly lady clutching a babydoll close to her chest. Vacant looks surround us but I know that these are human beings that all have a story; people who love them, and miss what they once were. They lived vibrant lives and made a difference in their community, raised kids, paid taxes and lived through World Wars. Now they look at us in bewilderment as we walk into a nearly empty room – the space that was once the home of their friend and sojourner. A few more odds and ends are packed up and the door is closed on one life, but will soon open to another beautiful but broken soul. In the dining room Fall decorations are being put out in preparation for a Halloween celebration. Plastic pumpkins are placed on the tables and brightly colored paper leaves are scattered around. The symbolism is not lost on me that Autumn is all about death. The blooms have now faded, the colorful foliage will turn brown, and soon the wind will blow them from their life source. The naked trees will mock us in their reminder that life is fleeting. In the stark moment I cannot yet envision the new life that Spring ushers in… only the harsh Winter that is near. I wonder if you see and feel what I do, or maybe you can see beyond – I hope so.

I stand in front of a graveside gathering to offer words of healing and hope. I feel your gaze but I intentionally look anywhere else, afraid that the heaviness of this moment may be too much for us both.  My eyes drift to you – the gravitational pull is too great between us, and I look. Your eyes reflect back only your inherent beauty, your graceful poise, and your unquenchable love of family and friends. I see the long and tearful hugs from your girlfriends, the clinging embrace of my father, and I fully understand why you are so loved… why I love you.

Today is your birthday.

This is the day that your mother labored and cried out in pain and eventually pushed you out into a waiting world. She looked at you in all of your vulnerable glory, and an inseparable bond was forged. The umbilical cord that connected you was cut but a new lifeline emerged. This new creation was something that only a troubled mother and her baby girl would ever know.  The mystery cannot be explained and is best left to the secret places of your spirit.

Today, loved ones from near and far will wish you a “Happy Birthday”.

Happiness is subjective and a product of circumstances, but your joy comes from a deeper place and emerges solely on the condition of the heart. In good conscience I cannot ask you to be happy on this day but rather I ask you to let us collectively walk in your grief, in your pain, in your loss, in your memories of better times, with laughter and stories of the old days, recollections of riding horses, and playing in the creek, and running to your mama’s bed when you were scared, proudly showing off your new babies to their granny, easter egg hunts, and holiday meals – and recent times when you and your mama remembered the mystery that formed at your birth. Roles were reversed; now she was vulnerable and you were the protector. Together, you talked and laughed and remembered, she would become scared and look to you for safety. Life has now come full circle, as your mama has travelled back through the birth canal to her temporal death, and has been reborn into eternity. Your lifeline to her is now and forever an infinite one, not bound by the limitations of time and space or human frailty. This is the place where we all find our joy and embrace our oneness with all things mortal and immortal.

Soon our tribe will gather and light candles and sing the refrain “Happy Birthday to you…” but it’s not a hope or a request for you to feel something that’s momentarily absent. It’s a declaration of our our happiness that you were born, that you grew in wisdom and grace, that you overcame and became an encouragement to others, that you raised two amazing daughters who still need their mama, that you chose me of all people, to be your life partner.

“I’m off the deep end, watch as I dive in

I’ll never meet the ground

Crash through the surface, where they can’t hurt us

We’re far from the shallow now”

 

Forever your love – Happy Birthday