My birthday was strange this year. It fell exactly four months after my mother’s death. A day that in the past has been all about me was overshadowed by my mom’s absence. I didn’t realize until my birthday arrived that I would dwell on the fact that I didn’t get a card or a phone call from her. Several of her best friends knew it would be a difficult day, however, and they sent cards and flowers. One baked a beautiful birthday cake.
Bill and the boys also worked very hard to make it a happy day. I came home from New York to a clean house, including the garage and the “laundry room.” (Don’t tell them, but they could have stopped there and I would have been in ecstasy.)
But they went further– they decorated with balloons and crepe paper, surprised me with a Tivo, already hooked up, and presented me with two types of cheesecake and two candles that simultaneously reduced the fire hazard and made it very clear exactly how old I was.
I was touched by the fact that so many people realized that this would be a difficult birthday, and that they spent so much time and energy ensuring that I know I am well-loved. It may have been a different kind of birthday, but it was one that I won’t ever forget.