My Birthday

Today is my birthday.

I've been dreading it for weeks because I knew I wouldn't receive a phone call or gift from my mom. I knew we wouldn't go shopping together over the weekend or have margaritas or watch Mama Mia together. I knew she wouldn't be able to tell me that she was so happy to have me (and my sister) in her life.

I didn't really want a birthday if I couldn't have those things.

So, at first I tried to avoid my birthday. I told some of my friends not to wish me a happy birthday. I didn't talk to anyone about plans or gifts or fun things to do. I had the perfect cover – Halloween!

I met with my doctor on Monday for a follow-up visit about some medication and my anxiety attacks. I told her that I thought my anxiety was decreasing until the past few days as I was getting ready for my first birthday without my mom. She said that was normal, and that I should realize that the firsts are going to be the hardest. Of course, I know that, and I am dreading the holidays more than I've ever dreaded anything, but I really wasn't expecting my birthday to throw me for such a loop. I learned many years ago that birthdays were a lot like being single on Valentine’s Day – it’s just not that big of a deal to anyone else. I just don’t tend to have many expectations regarding my birthday.

Well, except for my mom to call me and sing Happy Birthday and tell me she loves me.

In a surprise turn of events, I actually had a pretty good day. My employer hosted a volunteer event at Harvester’s, so about twenty of my coworkers and I spent a couple of hours this morning sorting and repackaging food instead of entering data on our computers or answering phones. Hard work in the service of others is cleansing to the mind and spirit.

Then, since it was the official last day for some of the seasonal workers, we had a pizza party (yes, I recognize and acknowledge the irony here) and were able to talk and laugh and socialize in a way that’s not usually possible when you’re working.

Then, I was extremely touched to receive a birthday card from my coworkers. I didn't even know they knew it was my birthday! I felt really appreciated and happy to be there.

About twenty minutes later, a water main broke near our building, and we were told to go home because the water and air-conditioning were shut off, so the building was getting pretty warm, and you’re never thirstier or need to pee more than when there’s no water available.

As I was packing up my things and saying goodbye to some of the temps, a man arrived with flowers! For me! They were beautiful purple daisies and included a card from my sister, her husband, my husband, my dad, and all of our pets. I've never received flowers at work before, and it really is one of those times in life when you want to say to all of the other cube-dwellers, “yep, I just got flowers, people! Take that!”

Despite my good day and positive mood, when I got home, I did something that some of you might see as masochistic or even reckless. And I’m not sure I’d disagree.

I listened to the voicemail my mom left me last year on my birthday. It begins with her singing “Happy Birthday” to me, telling me she loves me, that she hoped I’d had a good day, and that she and my dad would just be hanging out at home, waiting for trick-or-treaters, so I should call her when I had time.

Hearing her voice was amazing. It was startling and disorienting, and at first I couldn't breathe. Then it was comfortable, like being home again after you've been away for a long time.

I listened to it about six or seven times, lying in bed with the covers pulled up to my chin and my dog’s head on my shoulder. I cried some, but I mostly listened. Again, and again, and again, and again.

Twice, I allowed myself to indulge in a deliberate delusion: that it was a message from this year, and that I was going to call her back in a few minutes and talk about my day.

After setting my phone aside, I fell asleep for two hours. When I woke up, I was disoriented and exhausted, my eyes still swollen from crying. I remembered listening to the voicemail and almost listened to it again, but decided I should get up and take the dog out before trick-or-treaters began arriving.

I was alone in the house, and I felt the loneliness sharply. It’s a really frustrating kind of loneliness, because I know I’m not alone. I know there are people thinking of me and supporting me all the time, but when this loneliness creeps up, it doesn't matter. The emptiness echoes inside me, bouncing off my bones, and causing my joints to ache with grief.

I picked up my phone as I grabbed the dog’s leash, and was stunned. In the past two hours I’d had five missed calls, four voicemails, and twelve text messages. They were all birthday wishes! And nearly all of them mentioned that they were thinking about me!

All the texts, calls, and messages don’t really make it any easier that I’m not getting a call from my mom today, but they are an answer to the loneliness, because even if it’s only temporarily, it has, as of now, mostly eased.

As I’m writing this, it’s nearly 8:30pm, but I'm feeling pretty positive about today, because I think sometimes, especially lately, when things seem so hopeless and empty, these reminders that I haven’t been forgotten and that not everyone has grown tired of me really reach inside me and soothe those aches of loss.

Thank you. 

Kassie and I dressed as Dorothy and Glinda
 for Halloween/our birthdays circa
1990 in costumes our mom made for us.