David and I were born only two days apart, out of all the years I’ve known him we’ve only been able to spend 3 birthdays together… Our 16th, our 21st, and our 22nd birthdays… (Picture taken at Six Flags California, April 2006, our 21st Birthdays)

Previously, I looked forward to new years to come, new challenges… another birthday… life. Right now, just thinking of turning another year older without him leaves me with a knot in my stomach. How is this possible? How is it that time can fearlessly move forward without the love of life and without my consent?

It’s all too easy for me to obsess over “time.” Is it my gift? Or curse? Must I embrace it? I wish I can run from it. I wish hiding under my comforter actually made time cease. I remember thinking, in my early days of widowhood, that I wouldn’t make it to 23- widowed at 22. Here I am, at the mercy of time, turning 24 just as David should be. Somehow in the midst of all my denial and obsessing over the impossibility of time’s persistence, another year went by. A whole year. 

I can no longer say with confidence that I won’t be here next year. Time does not “heal all my wounds” as ignorance describes, but time does begin to dull the intensity of the pain. Time allows for my thoughts to clear, for love to grow, and for strength to persevere. Time… I hate it… but it’s proven what’s most important to me- LOVE prevails. It’s shown me what David saw all along… my strength. 

I’ll probably be here for our 25th birthdays… so…(DEEP BREATH) here’s to another year… With LOVE, I know I can make it! 

Happy Birthday, My love.