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Dear Mom,

I know you thought it was stupid how people wrote happy birthday posts to dead loved ones on social media.  "People don't care about birthdays when they're dead.  And they're surely not checking facebook!"

Yeah, I know.  It's the new version of talking to gravestones (Yes, I know you thought that was stupid, too.  That's why I phrased it that way).  But, the thing is, I finally kind of get the mentality.  Maybe those people are alone, and not sitting well with it.  Maybe they don't have anyone they feel they can grieve with.  Maybe their loss is still too big to be contained.

I don't want to tell you happy birthday. 

I wanna tell you how hard this year has been.  And all the stupid shit that's happened.  I want to tell you that I feel stuck, and I don't know how to get out.  I wanna tell you that I'm scared, nearly every day, waiting for the next catastrophe, and they seem to always come.  I wanna ask you where the fuck your keys and and my damn birth certificate are.  I wanna tell you that I haven't managed to burn the house down (yet), but it came close a couple times. I want to ask you to hug Mamma for me, to tell Nothing and Elwood how much I miss them.  I want to tell you to ask Dad what the hell that weird noise is that the car is making.

Only...really, I don't want to tell you anything.  I just want you to hug me and tell me everything is gonna be okay, even if it's not.