a birthday letter for my mom

Hey, Mom. Just me here. I fancy you can read this. Or actually you are hearing the words in my mind as I type them. That is, if your energy is still out there, and all your energy particles didn't disburse into the universe. I believe you CAN hear me. I think you hear all my tears, anger, and joy. I imagine none of it hurts you -- you just smile a lot now and nod your head knowingly. Maybe you know exactly how it's all going to turn out. So there you are, silent. But knowing.

Last night Noah read to me, book after book. He loves reading so much. Reading is a super power when you are little. I remember when Emma started reading everything to me, almost overnight. Now it is his turn, and he is amazing! They both like the big words, love a good challenge. ... You spent so much time listening to Nathan and I reading. Night after night having us practice spelling words for the Bee. Our first word to spell wasn't "cat" or "it." nope, it was ten letters long. you showed us what syllables were and how to break the word up.You taught us how some letters are silent and some make a sound you wouldn't even think ... Noah thinks that compound words are the cat's meow for sure. I like that he WANTS to know things. They are both sponges, absorbing everything.

Emma wishes you were here so she could have a Mamaw Jennifer. She has fantasies that you would bake with her and sing and play games. I know you would. If you were really here.

I wish you were here. I want to make you a pumpkin pie. Remember I had just started doing that a couple of years before you got sick? I want to make you supper. I never did do that. I would take you out for lunch at a nice restaurant and we would get Starbucks, which I imagine you would think was silly because you have a coffee pot at home (or you did.) But you are NOT here physically anymore on this earth, walking and talking. I remember you though. Everything but your voice. It alludes me completely, although I am sure I would recognize it instantly if I heard it.

I wish you could meet your five grandchildren. That you could be the Mamaw you always wanted to be.

I love you. Forever and ever. I will continue to pass on to Emma and Noah all the good things you taught me. Happy Birthday from This Side. Fifteen would-have-been birthdays have passed, and I have smiled and cried on every one. Love. Love. Love.