At Least They Are

Somehow between each of Lily's birthdays, I forget how there's a let-down in the days after March 16th. 

I think people could assume that because March is a difficult month for me, that I am glad when it passes. Yes, it is difficult. But I find myself in one moment wanting another March to hurry up and pass quickly by and in the next moment, I love how close it makes me feel to Lily. It's a seesaw of mixed emotions.

There are many people who reach out to me in March, especially on Lily's actual birthday on the 16th, so when the days that follow come, I feel a wave of loneliness wash over me. As I've written about before, it feels like on March 16, people remember her more and understand my missing her more than they do the rest of the year. Because I do miss her, every day of every year. Not just on the 16th day of the 3rd month.

I was also wondering how many people would actually think of Lily on her birthday if I didn't share publicly as I do. Would anyone besides my family care? That's honestly a sad thought because it hurts that it's up to me to make sure people don't forget. I wish they would remember all on their own. And maybe some would. But not all. Not like they would remember if she were alive and here, present in photos, conversations, and life, instead of only present continually in my heart and thoughts.

The love I receive this time of year reminds me why I share. There are times when I wonder if it's worth it to be raw and vulnerable as I am, pouring out a piece of my heart and soul each time I write. Sometimes I feel exposed, like people can know so much of who I am, without me even knowing they are here. But then I will receive a comment or an email from someone who is reading, someone who cares, and it reminds me why I do share. It reminds me this is meaningful and purposeful. 

Even if others are only remembering Lily because I do, at least they are.

I'm reminded of a post I wrote a couple years ago called "Even Today."