Celebrating Dad's Birth Day, But Not the Milestone

Of all the emotions we feel as human beings, I believe that Grief is the most personal. Each of deals with grief in our own way, because the impact that is felt after losing a loved one is rooted in the unique relationship you had with that person. There is no "right" or "wrong" way to work through grief, but it's important that as you cope with loss, you do not allow the sadness to overwhelm and consume you. Ultimately, you need keep moving forward with your own life, moving towards a positive state of mind where you can still cherish the memories that you have of that person, and eventually experience joy again. 

It's not easy, but it is necessary and healthy to go through a healing process, and get to that positive place.

Some days are harder than others, but usually two in particular: the date the person died, and date that was their birthday.  While it's inevitable that you'll be thinking of your loved one each year on the day they passed away, I've always felt it's preferable to focus on the day they were born. The memories associated with that day tend to be happier and easier to cope with, because they are typically filled with reminiscences of celebrations, family gatherings, and hope-filled wishes made when blowing out the candles on a birthday cake. 

I think that's why I see so many people on social media post about their deceased loved ones, celebrating their milestones as if they were still accumulating them: "Today is my Grandmother's 101st Birthday!" or "Happy 87th Birthday to my aunt in Heaven!"  (Inevitably, someone comments, "Wow, Happy Birthday to your Grandmother!" until the original poster clues them in: "She died 30 years ago, but thank you"...and awkward silence ensues.)  

So, while I do understand why people do this, it still makes me cringe every time I see it happen.

I mention this, because today is my father's birthday, and if he were still alive, it would have been a big "milestone" celebration. Unfortunately, my Dad's been gone for almost 16 years now, and as such, he will be forever frozen in time at the age of 74. 

Although I still mourn my father's loss deeply, I can't bring myself to herald the milestones of "what would have been" because it only reinforces what will never be. 

So today, I will celebrate the date of his birth, but not the milestone. Instead, I do my best to honor his life every day of the year, and draw comfort from the cherished memories accrued during the 39 years of my life that I was so very lucky to have him in it.