Bryan would have been 46 today, and I grieve that he didn’t get a chance to celebrate that here on earth, with those he loved.

This week has been a tough one. For those that don’t know it, Bryan and I shared a birthday, although not year; he was a year older. I’ve never been a huge fan of my birthday anyway, and the added dimension of Bryan’s loss makes it that much more difficult.

Yes, I should be grateful. I get to celebrate another year on this earth. It’s all too painfully obvious that’s preferable to the alternative – not being around to have a birthday.

The hell with grateful.

I’m mad. Bryan was too young, and had too much unfinished business here.

Football season is starting up; I’ll never see a game again without wishing he were there. In fact, I probably won’t see a game again, period. I’m a casual fan, while he absolutely loved the game.

Zach’s starting his senior year. He has senior pictures, homecoming, prom, graduation, which Bryan would have loved to attend. Zach’s first, beloved girlfriend broke up with him and he could probably use a male perspective.

I drive Bryan’s cute little car daily, his convertible MINI. It makes me smile, there are happy memories.

I am doing a triathlon, relay-style (I’ll swim) with some of his friends in mid-September, in his honor – coincidently, it’s almost exactly on the six-month anniversary of his passing. He would have loved hanging out with us and cheering us on.

I remember all the birthdays we’ve celebrated – with camping trips, dinners out, family and friend get-togethers, labor day weekend events, and try to pick out something memorable. His favorite birthday cake was spice cake with cream cheese frosting.

There was always a little bit of tension around our birthdays – he enjoyed them, while I faced them more reluctantly. He didn’t want to throw a celebration and leave me to fade into the background, and I didn’t want to minimize something that was obviously important to him, so we tried to find a happy medium.

In the midst of my grief, and this week has been very painful, my lovely neighbor Joan made a comment that helped immensely. She said, “He’s probably celebrating with a banquet up in heaven today.”

Perspective helps! While those of us left behind feel the emptiness and sadness, he’s in a better place. I do believe that.