I'm turning 36 this year. It's not my golden birthday. 36 is not my special number. But this birthday hits me differently than any other birthday has.
My mother was 36 when I was born. If she were alive today, she would be twice my age. In the Chinese Zodiac, we are the same animal. The only year we got to share together as a multiple of 12 (besides the year I was born) was the year I turned 12. She was 48.
I've always loved the book Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech. I first read it in grade school, again in middle school, and I've reread it multiple times as an adult. After middle school, reading it was like reading about myself. Salamanca was embarking on a journey to walk in her mother's footsteps. My entire life....has felt like that in a way. Since her death, I had to learn to live without her, but I've always remembered her.
Having kids without her was definitely the hardest. Mothers understand things nobody else can. Becoming a mother without my own has had heartbreaking moments. I'm not saying we would have been the best of friends and agreed on everything and lived in perfect harmony. We most definitely would not have. But I am saying living knowing she isn't here brings a hole in which having her alive, even with an imperfect relationship, cannot replicate.
Being 36 scares me in some ways because in my head, it is the start of a countdown. It's the start of the 9 years I had my mother without cancer entering our lives. It's the start of the only 13 years I had with her. Walking in my mother's footsteps through these years of my life is scary. I know how it ended for her. It's not that I expect it to happen for me: I genuinely hope it doesn't. But because I've lived on the opposite side as the observer, I know it's not impossible for me to become the one experiencing it.
I actually tried using AI to put a photo of my adult self next to my mother. Seeing it made me cry. I've never physically stood next to her as an adult and had a photo taken. But then, I realized, if my mother were alive today, she wouldn't be in her 40s anymore. She would also have aged another 22 years. When I asked AI to age progress her, the resemblance was completely lost. I say that also knowing I don't know what my mother would have looked like at 72. Even if technology could do so accurately, the person it would show me would no longer be someone I knew, someone I cherished. It would be the equivalent of a stranger. So at the same time that it superimposed me as an adult with my mother at 47, it's not the same person I would have stood next to if she were still alive today. Sometimes, we need to see it to realize it's not actually what we want.
I don't want to be 36 standing next to my 47 year old mother. That would have been and is impossible. At the same time, it is impossible for 36 year old me to stand next to my 72 year old mother. Nobody will ever know what she actually looked like. And I don't want a fabrication.
I miss her a little extra this year for my birthday.

