Who am I? I am a person who wonders, do you ever get used to the loss of your parents? Especially on your birthday.
No matter how many birthdays I have celebrated with the gaping holes left after the passing of Mama and Daddy. I never stop thinking about them and longing to hear “Happy Birthday baby.” But they aren’t here, and I will never hear them say it again. That brings such a pain to my heart I can’t even put words to it.
Even though they aren’t here I see them everywhere, I see Daddy in Cole as his significant height looks down at me, and he cocks one eyebrow up. I see Mama in Heather as she does whatever she sets her mind to. And I see them in the flowers I plant, the stars I watch, and the laughter of my family. My parents aren’t here, but they are everywhere because they made such an impact on me.
I never went a birthday that I didn’t have them to say they loved me and wished me Happy Birthday, no matter what was going on or the circumstances they did. I never failed to call her every day even when we weren’t getting along because I loved them dearly.
There are instances in life now where children and their parents do not talk; I am sadly too familiar with it. I wish things were different, but you can not force others to do what they do not want to do.
So with my birthday approaching, I look back at the years. I never really had a birthday party, Larry was the one who had parties. It wasn’t until after Cole was born. It was an average birthday, or at least it started that way.
I got so mad at my girls because they ran off and didn’t help with the chores or do anything. They left me on my birthday. I was furious. Then I got a phone call that said they needed their dad and me to come pick them up at the neighbor’s house. So we got in the car, and I was still fuming, bitching and complaining about those ungrateful little girls.
We drove into the neighbor’s yard, and I was still furious as I walked inside to let my kids have a piece of my mind. Then as I entered their dining room, I was met by an entire lot of our friends. Yeah, my girls had left me to do all their chores, but they were off busy planning a surprise party for me.
The tears still fall my cheeks as I remember the feeling of everyone screaming Happy Birthday and the look on my girls’ faces. It was priceless, and everyone liked to remind me how mad I got
But I had never gotten a real birthday party, and I had no idea this was going to be one.
It was unbelievable, and they were all so wonderful. But boy did I get mad that morning. Now, it is funny. Then, not so much.
Birthdays to me are a time I reflect on the past, a time I remember the tears, the laughter, pain, and joy of being me. It is when I try to see the world through the eyes of my family, and I know they haven’t had it easy.
Dealing with me is something they need commendations. Being a Bi-Polar redheaded Irish Native American Danish Gemini is not easy for anyone. They need medals.
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