Sixteen

My beautiful, strong firstborn is sixteen. I hate that every milestone is now tainted with sadness. I hate that I cant just celebrate wildly without a permanent sense of deep sorrow and loss.

Her birthday this year had me broken. I tried so hard to keep it together. I took her to the Mugg and Bean, We sat and chatted ---all the while in my head I was self-talking

"just keep breathing Mel, don't let her see your pain, it's her special day, 

please please don't lose your mind"

I really tried. Eventually I knew I would not be able to keep my shit together. I thought I may start screaming like a crazy, insane person. That would not be good. I needed desparately to get out of public.

LIKE IMMEDIATELY.

I sent an emergency text and was collected and driven home. All the while I kept my composure - I did tell Rach the mild version of what I was experiencing --- and as always she was supportive and understanding.

I struggle with guilt. I dont think she should have had to be the strong one so often but thank God she has always been able to process and help me come out the other side.

I guess it was not the ideal 'sweet sixteen' but then again she is not that kind of girl.

It was a bittersweet day that neither of us will ever forget.