The first of Never

I’ve been a mess lately, pop.

I miss you so much it’s hard to breathe sometimes, enough to be sure it’s not always allergies. Whether it’s documentaries and book interests we shared, salsa and vallenato cds or even a historic spacewalk, I’ve been avoiding them all because they’re cold hard and sharp reminders that you’re gone. And I’ve been reminded a lot lately. A lot. Unfortunately, all that usually fun stuff has been functioning more like broken spigots on massive barrels of sadness and tears, and although I know that eventually the torrent will reduce to a drip, I feel like I have to just drain those barrels because they seem to refill anyway.

My theory as to why I’m suddenly handling your absence so poorly 4 months later is because this is the first of never again being able to call you or be with you for your birthday. I know, it’s really just another day and someone remembering is nice of them, but I have 8 more months of many firsts without you before I think I can be ok and not feel as if I were drowning at sea level. Still though, I will always be grateful for the places and the things we enjoyed together over so many years but especially during what would turn out to be your last year on Earth. You were tired, so tired, so ready to go and even then, you showed me a strength I have not seen in another human being.

I’m happy you’re resting.

Happy birthday pop. Tell mami and abuela I love them.