Mom, every time our birthday comes around, I feel this heavy mix of emotions—love, longing, and an ache that never really fades. We always celebrated together, and now, without you, it just doesn’t feel the same. It’s like a part of me is missing, like the day itself has lost its meaning.

I look at your picture, and it hits me—I miss you more than words can ever express. There are moments when I wish I could turn back time, bring you back, and relive those birthdays where we laughed together, where you hugged me and wished me before anyone else. But I know that’s not possible. The truth is harsh, and no matter how much I wish otherwise, those who leave never return.

I know I wasn’t the perfect son. Maybe I could have done things differently, spent more time with you, shown my love more openly. But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s this—I love you, Mom. More than anything in this world. And now, when I want to tell you this, when I want to hear you call my name and wish me, all I have is silence.

Sometimes, I wonder—if time travel existed, would I go back just to feel your presence again? But even if I could, I know I’d still have to return to a reality where you’re not here. No amount of rewinding time would change the fact that I have to go through this life without you.

I don’t know if reincarnation is real. I don’t know if I’ll get another chance, another life, another birthday with you. But if there is one, I’d want nothing more than to be your son again. And this time, I’d be better. I’d love you harder, cherish you more, and never take a moment with you for granted.

Today is our day, Mom. But without you, it’s just another reminder of what I’ve lost. Still, I celebrate you in my heart—because you will always be a part of me, no matter where I go, no matter how many birthdays pass.

Your son, missing you every second.