Nobody puts baillee in the corner

My 30 birthday is in less than 36 hours…and it marks the beginning of many firsts without my mom. There won’t be any pancakes or a bedroom room filled with balloons (which she sincerely did when I turned 15) or a card with the likes of a David Foster Wallace novel written inside that I couldn’t read around anyone because it was always extremely sentimental. She’s not going to call me and do the goofy version of “Happy Birthday” with the lines about looking and smelling like a monkey. None of it.

My friends and my sister are being so, so supportive and kind, and honestly, are going above and beyond to make this birthday as special as humanly possible, but there’s still going to be a whole in my heart when the day comes. KP just made things so, so special.

Age doesn’t really bother me, with 30 being no exception, but this birthday was a big one for KP, and she was so excited for it. And, I was extremely fortunate to have her in Austin this time last year for my birthday. I think it was a gift from the universe.

Grief is so weird because I haven’t cried about my mom in days, but here I am, writing this blog post and doing my annual birthday watch of Sixteen Candles, and I’m sobbing because I’m caught up on all of the things she’s about to miss.

My birthday. My sister’s birthday. Fall. She and my brother-in-law’s birthday (they had the same birthday). Halloween. Thanksgiving. Christmas. All of it.

I can’t help but fluctuate between anger and sadness. It’s just not fair she doesn’t get to see me turn 30.

She doesn’t get to see the second nose piercing I’ve decided I want on my birthday. I don’t get to text her what I get shopping. I don’t get to talk to her. Nothing.

I don’t want you to think, dear reader, that I don’t have the best support system a girl could ever ask for. Between my sister, brother-in-law, and my friends, believe me when I say I know how absolutely lucky I am. I’m just having to try to figure out how to live without the woman who nursed me when I ruptured my eardrum last year and held me while I cried about silly boys in high school and made your entire birthday month feel like your own, personal holiday.

I know I’ll get through it, and I know I’ll be okay, but there’s no denying how much it hurts.