What a difference a year makes

Yesterday would have been my dear friend Mikey's birthday. Mikey committed suicide late in the evening on/about February 27. We got the news February 28. Last year, we went to a bar around my hometown. I almost didn't go, had too much to drink the Friday night before, but I got myself put together and headed out. We had so much fun that night and I remember.

Mikey touched the lives of a lot of people, after I logged on to my facebook account yesterday morning I saw all the messages of Happy Birthday or today would have been your birthday. It would have been his 33rd. I drew a bath, put some bath salts in and just sat, reflecting. Of all the twists and turns my life has taken over the past year, the biggest one has been losing him. His dad committed suicide, he hated people that did that, it was weak, it was selfish.

Mikey had four children, two beautiful girls and two handsome boys. He was a "sweetheart." Nearly his whole body was covered in tattoos, but even suburban me managed to get past that quickly because of his personality and kindness in his eyes. One of the last times we went out, I was with "the guys," and some other friends came to join and Mikey told them I was "one of the boys."

The last time I saw him, he asked if I was pregnant yet. Unbeknownst to me, I was. I often wonder if he knew, he had been battling the demons quietly, I wonder if some kind of serenity had come over him and he was able to see things others couldn't.

I'm thankful for the memories. I want to see him seeing me with my swollen belly and have him rub it and smile and be happy.