Her Birthday

My attempt to post old entries back-fired on me this weekend.  I tried, but they would only save to draft.  I think that was the universe’s way of saying ‘ummm – now is not a good time, try back later, have some chocolate in the meantime’.  And that’s what I did.  :)

Yesterday was…….I don’t know, it just kind of was.  It felt strange to just go about my day and act like it wasn’t an important or special day.  I was alone with Emily for the majority of the day and we went to the playground, fought once about something that is inconsequential now; we stayed home most of the day since we were out all day on Saturday.  And I tried to not remember what day it was, but it was hard to forget.  It was hard to forget that my Dad was having a mass said for her, it was hard to forget that he would have come home after a regular mass with flowers for her had she still been here.  It’s hard to forget, and I know that I will never forget it.  I wore her necklace yesterday and I told Emily it was Grandma’s birthday, even though I don’t think she understood I want her to know that the day is still important even though Grandma isn’t with us anymore.

If my Mom was still here, we would have gathered around and gone to dinner – a restaurant the rest of us picked because she NEVER picked (but always complained about it somehow – the bread was too hard, the food was too hot/too cold, the plates were too big/small, the tea wasn’t hot enough/too hot, the sauce wasn’t as good as hers, the music was too loud, our waitress too perky, etc. etc. etc.), went back to her house for coffee and cake. I would have gotten her flowers from Emily and had them sent to her – she loved getting flowers delivered to the house.  I would have heard her complain about getting older, and joking about why God has kept her here this long (to keep things interesting and/or to keep an eye on my father).  I wish those jokes were still funny.  Many things that were once funny – like calling her bat shite crazy – aren’t as funny as they used to be; I hope that changes one day.

You can’t really celebrate a birthday for someone who has passed away; a birthday is a celebration of their life, the past year of that life.  And there is no more life to celebrate; her life ended before it should have, in my opinion (I am all too familiar with the idea of things happening for a reason, which I usually agree with, but this one I don’t understand and I don’t know if I ever will).  I wish my Dad was open to doing something for her, like having a big lunch with their friends and talking about her and really celebrating her.  Maybe next year (God willing, as my Mom would have said).

My birthday is a week from today and I’m not dreading it as much as I think I did a year ago, but I also know that it won’t be an easy day. My Mom’s birthday was yesterday, and the 6^thanniversary of my friend’s passing is this weekend as well.  I am hoping that it will be easier than last year but I have come to a realization – your birthday will never be more important to anyone than to your mother.  She will always think of you on that day, no matter what relationship you have, and she may smile or cry or cringe but she will think of you.  My mother took the opportunity to remind me I was getting old, remind me that she was not getting old, and recount how she found out she was pregnant, how my Dad was at my Grandmother’s house for lunch when I was born and she was very mad at him by the time he finally showed up.  That call will never come again, although my Dad will try.  Those stories will never be told again because they were hers.  And mine – and now they are just mine, and right now I have no one to tell them to(at least no one who will really want to hear them again).  No one will ever care more about that day than her, and that diminishes the importance of that day forever.  It will never be that important to someone ever again, and that sucks.  I hope that it won’t hurt as much as it did last year when my phone didn’t ring, when the stories didn’t come and when I didn’t get to hear her say “Hi Sweetheart, it’s Mom” one more time.