it’s Mom’s birthday today. she would be 61. ten years since we celebrated her 50th in a whirlwind of dancing, eating, and running late to the play. all of us together, not realizing how little time was left.

had a bad dream about her this morning. there was a hole below her collar bones, a space that tunneled through her back, leaving a windowed view of what’s behind her; she was signing up with a questionable enterprise. been a long time since i had a bad dream, a worry dream about her.

i feel ineffectual on these anniversaries. we celebrate as best we can, but it never feels like enough. how do i know if she is ok? how do i know if the yellow roses are enough? why hasn’t she given me a sign in these nearly seven years?

death separates us with unknowns, no matter what one believes. i can’t ask her if she is well, i can’t ask if i’m adequate comfort. what i do with what she left me has to be enough. it’s all i have. but it never feels like enough.

these anniversaries still hit me like a ton of bricks.