Posts Tagged With: Birthday

“They Say It’s Your Birthday”

Birthstone bracelet with all four of you.

Birthstone bracelet with all four of you.

Not Just Another Friday Letter To My Kids

Dear J, J, L and L,

It’s my birthday today, which I’m not much thrilled about. I don’t mind adding another year to my rap sheet; it’s just that I don’t like all the hullaballoo and attention.

Sounds contradictory coming from a writer, who’d really like to have her work read and noticed and published. But that’s different.

Big J

Big J

I used to make a big deal about your birthdays when you were younger, remember? Nearly always the streamers would go up after you’d dropped off to sleep. Balloons festooned the room and maybe a little confetti. Sometimes I’d even decorate your bedroom door so the first thing you’d see in the morning was evidence that you were loved and cared about on your birthday. Always, always, a homemade birthday cake with some sprinkles and candles at the very least, or Lego men rappelling at my most creative and silly.

I know since you’ve gotten older I’ve really slacked off on the birthday recognition department. It’s important that you know that no correlation whatsoever exists between how important you are to me and if and when you get a gift or card or even a call on your birthday.

Little J

Little J

You see, here’s the thing. Those four days in my life, the days each of you came into my life, top the Best Days Ever Chart.

Absolute truth.

I can think of little else that tops the days each one of you were born. Felt like Heaven landed in my arms each time!

Makes my heart race just thinking about it, even this many years later.

No one else quite understands the priceless and precious quality of the day of your birth quite like I do. Even your Dad doesn’t get it like I get it.

Big L

Big L

You each made me a mother. You’ve each made me into the slightly crazy, laughing maniacally, tender-hearted, sarcastic, praying, sleep-deprived person that I’ve become. For that, I thank you.

Can’t imagine life without each one of you. Can’t imagine a life without you having graced my days and laced my nights. “Blessed am I among women” to have the privilege of mothering you.

Little L

Little L

So, sure, today is the day I was born a zillion years ago, but your birthdays, oh my. Your birthdays are the days I really began to become who I am. Your lives have brought me joy unmatched. I celebrate you!

Today I want you to know you are loved and cherished. You are each the best gifts I ever got, hands down!

All my love,

Mom

photo-23 copy 5

P.S. Today’s title was borrowed from a Beatle’s song which I, sadly, never introduced to you as children. Here, to make up for my indiscretion and for your listening pleasure is a classic birthday song everyone should be familiar with. Enjoy!

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Categories: Friday Letters | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

The Serendipity of Your Birthday On Memorial Day

Dear Kathy,

I find it interesting that your birthday this year also happens to fall on Memorial Day. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had planned it that way.

I’d really wanted to visit you on your birthday but I’m afraid it’ll be crowded and noisy and I just wanted some quiet one on one time with you. I’d even thought of bringing along some hummus and pita bread to munch. And, of course, a forty-four ounce diet coke, easy ice, with diet cherry flavoring and handful of real cherries.

Instead, I think I’ll come by for a visit in a few weeks, when the crowds have died down (no pun intended) and it’s quiet and peaceful. Hoping it isn’t too hot by then, or too windy. I suppose if your geraniums survive the summer at “your Sarah’s” house nearby then I’d do okay with the summer heat on “the mountain.”

pieces-of-the-puzzleI have to say I have mixed feelings about visiting you. It just won’t be how it was. Of course, what is anymore? Seems like someone took the puzzle that was my life in January, threw it up in the air and let the pieces fall wherever. I think the wind caught a few pieces and carried them away.

Can I also admit something horrible? I’m kinda angry. That sounds really stupid as I write it. All those conversations we had for years about what “now” would look and feel like, all those assignments you gave me, all those things in the far distant future actually happened. At the time of those conversations none of it felt real.

Surreal, yes.

Real, never.

“Now” is here and more real than I imagined and I don’t like it one bit.

See the paisley shape in each one? Not as cool all by itself.

See the paisley shape in each one? Not as cool all by itself.

I’m also a bit aggravated because you set this gold standard for the perfect friendship. Nothing else will ever measure up to that. That’s not really your fault. You couldn’t help it that you were the friendship yin to my yang. Now I’m just a funky looking squiggle, a paisley shape. Dumb and boring.

I keep expecting to run into you. And yet, I avoid going to your house. I’m not following through with those assignments you gave me. I’m a slacker.

Truth is, it hurts too dang much to go over to your place now. Even driving past twists this pain through my back and into my heart and makes an ache that takes days to breath away. I should get over that. Eventually.

I also expect to see you in dreams. I did, a couple of weeks ago. I wrote the dream down in my journal. Reread it a few times. Gave up trying to understand it. Too much like real life. I was hoping for revelation, insight, wisdom, healing, and yes, maybe even laughter. This dream didn’t have any of that in it. But I did see you, your face, that light you have in your eyes. And I heard your bossy, take charge voice, sort of. It had softened some.

This letter probably gets your dander up. You’d tell me to suck it up. You’d say…I don’t know. What would you say?

I can’t remember now. I don’t want to remember. And I do want to remember.

photo-24 copy

translation: quit your belly aching

Actually, now that I’ve thought about it, you’d say, “Kwitchurbelyakn!” Just like that little sign on your stove said.

This was meant as a perky, happy letter. One to let you know I’m okay, even though I miss you. I’d planned it out in my head to start with a great joke, share a couple of funny memories, finish with another good joke and then sign off with some witty remark.

You know me better than that. You’d see through the smoke and mirrors and would call BS when you got done reading a letter like that.

What advice would you give me? Can you just drop me a line somehow? You’re one of the most resourceful, innovative women I know. Surely you can do a workaround to get word to me. A mystery text. A phrase in a book I’m reading jumping out at me. A glimpse of your big smile on someone’s face. Be creative, I’m pretty open-minded about however you reach me.

Tall order, I know. Plus, you’re probably pretty busy reorganizing heaven so it runs more efficiently.

Just so you aren’t completely irritated by my whiney letter I’ll let you know I’ve trolled the internet for jokes and I share them, almost every day. Just trying to stay on the sanity side of the grief thing. It seems to help, some.

This quote by Bill Cosby caught my eye and, of course, I thought of you.

“You can turn painful situations around through laughter. If you can find humor in anything, even poverty, you can survive. it.” ~ Bill Cosby

You did that really well, so I’m trying to keep up the tradition. Laughter, even in the crappy times. So here’s a parting joke, or a party joke. Whichever.

Little Johnny’s new baby brother was screaming up a storm. He asked his mom, “Where’d we get him?”

His mother replied, “He came from heaven, Johnny.”

Johnny says, “WOW! I can see why they threw him out!”

You’re a keeper, no matter how demanding you might get. Try to stay out of trouble, if you can. I know you like to stir things up, have things your way. Try to remember you aren’t the one in charge anymore.

This was probably two years ago or more. An eternity and just yesterday.

This was two years ago or more. An eternity and just yesterday.

Here’s that picture I took a couple of years ago that you photoshopped and sent back to me. I should frame it to remind me of your sense of humor, your ability to laugh in life’s toughest situations. Not to mention, I’d get to see that mischievousness in your eyes. And it’d remind me to be happy anyway.

I miss you a ton.

Happy Birthday!

With love from your bestie,

Kami

 

 

 

 

 

 

Categories: Death, Holiday, Humor | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Just What I Always Wanted

When I turned nine years old, as I opened each birthday gift I said, “oh, just what I always wanted!” I said that over and over. “Just what I always wanted!” It seems like that year I got a Barbie and some Barbie clothes Mom had sewed along with a few other things I adored and gushed over.
A picture of a birthday cake

Happy Birthday!

Dad documented the day on 8mm film. A trip to the zoo was also part of the day’s celebration. I felt like a princess. That particular birthday along with other family event he recently transferred to CD for the family’s viewing pleasure. What a wonder-filled time of life that was.

I used to anticipate birthdays with pleasure and excitement. Not so much in the past few years. At a certain point getting older feels like less of a bonus and more of a deficit  It’s better than the alternative though, right? I should probably change my attitude.
It embarrasses me when I’m the center of attention. At the same time being recognized, wished happiness, gifted or wined and dined has its perks. What a conundrum!
As a way to address my desire for a better birthday attitude I looked up a few of birthday jokes:
An old lady was being interviewed by reporters on the occasion of her 110th birthday.  “What do you think is the reason for your long life?” they asked her.  “Oh,” she replied, “I suppose it’s because I was born such a long time ago.”
 
Q:  What do you always get on your birthday?
  
A:  Another year older!
Some employees bought their boss a gift for his birthday. Before opening the gift, the boss shook it slightly, and noticed that it was wet in the corner. Touching his finger to the wet spot and tasting it, he asked, “A bottle of wine?”
His employees replied, “No.”
Again, he touched his finger to the box and tasted the liquid. “A bottle of scotch?”
His employees replied again, “No.”
Finally the boss asked, “I give up. What is it?”
His workers responded, “A puppy.”
 I thought those were good for a few laughs!
Seriously, I think this quote best captures how I’m feeling this year on the anniversary of the day my mother labored to bring me into this world:
“Age has given me what I was looking for my entire life – it has given me me . It has provided time and experience and failures and triumphs and time-tested friends who have helped me step into the shape that was waiting for me. I fit into me now. I have an organic life, finally, not necessarily the one people imagined for me, or tried to get me to have. I have the life I longed for. I have become the woman I hardly dared imagine I would be.”
present | the both and | shorts and longs | ju...

(Photo credit: shorts and longs)

Time and Age have gifted me something rare and unique;  they have made me into the woman who writes, laughs, loves, rolls with the punches, loses her temper occasionally, wonders about life, feels grateful, shares what she can and revels in living.

Although far from finished and perfected, the person I am today is “just what I always wanted!”
Categories: Gratitude, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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