27

Every September since Sean died I try to take a trip to distract myself from the second most difficult event of the year without him- his birthday.

It didn’t start that way-I had booked a September trip to England, Ireland and Scotland with my best friend back in 2016 both before I got pregnant and before Sean died- I’m glad I did. The welcome distraction of a forgein land kept my mind busy.

Despite my efforts, distractions only keep my sorrow at bay. Fleeting moments of laughter and joy are interrupted with thoughts of; I wish you were here.

I had an upsetting epiphany back in February 2018….I was then officially older than Sean ever lived to be.

Come my birthday in November, I would have outlived him by an entire year. Some song lyrics come to mind; “Thought we had the time, had our lives, now you’ll never get older”.

During September I am consistently reminded of this…

I mourn the fact that Sean will never grow older.

That we’ll never grow old together.

That he’ll be forever twenty-five years, two months, twenty-three days, yet here I sit- twenty-five years, ten months, three days.

Now each birthday, anniversary and so on is no longer a joyous day to celebrate. Instead, it’s all “would have been”. Nearly two years later, I am still haunted by the woulda, coulda, shoulda’s- I wonder if they’ll ever go away.

Anyways, Happy Birthday, Sean. I hope you are drinking a Blue Moon and have found some peace.

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