Today is Kody’s birthday, a day that should have marked his 31st year. In life, Kody never seemed to enjoy his birthdays. And now for me, living life after loss I’m not sure how to mark the day.

For Kody, birthdays were often days that marked his failure. He felt that he should have achieved more, done more in the space of each year. Kody never liked being the center of attention and birthdays necessitate that. When I bought him gifts, he felt they were undeserved. The fact that he’d survived another year wasn’t something he always felt happy about. He didn’t like to be reminded that being here now was something to be celebrated.

Last year, I remember reaching out to him for his birthday. He was in a glum and despondent mood. It wasn’t a happy birthday for him. Our conversation stayed incredibly brief on that day, as I expected. At least he answered. At least I tried to say something to help him get through the day.

I’m unsure of what to do today. He’s not here to text or call. He only survived the first three months of his thirty first year. It is only the living that care about birthdays and Kody never really liked celebrating his anyhow. He should be here today and for the first time in my life he’s not. This is life after loss.

If Kody was here, I could fall into our inside joke about his age. On our birthdays, we always used to joke that he was so old and I was so young. In reality, we were born about a month apart. The joke always got a smile, even on his worst birthdays.

The struggle will undoubtedly continue. Each year this date will pass. Each year it’ll pass without him. As I live out years he never got to live, it will remain a reminder of what is lost.

Happy birthday Kody, wherever you are. I miss you, today as I do every day.