So, yep. My birthday is September 11th. I get a lot of mixed reactions when I tell people. Well, actually mixed isn’t really how I’d describe it. Everyone usually looks at me wide-eyed, raises an eyebrow and/or offers apologies. After 12 years of this, I have gotten used to it.
If I go out to celebrate my birthday, I get guff from random people. It’s happened several times. I was at a bar with friends and some drunk leaned over and told us we had nothing to celebrate about. When I said we did and it was my birthday, he went on a rant about how young people make up bogus excuses for their drinking. Mind you, this fool was drunk as a skunk saying this.
I have to say – 32 is not old! My husband told me I don’t look a day over 16. My response was “Ummm doesn’t that make you a pedophile?” HAHAHAHA!
Enough about happy birthday memories, though. Let’s talk about a sad one.
Ever year on or around my birthday, I visit my Mother’s grave site. It’s just something I do. It’s pretty much a conversation with myself, but I feel like I’m talking to her as well. I babble on about the past year then talk about my goals for the year to come. It’s very cleansing for me.
Today, I went up to the cemetery, kissed the head stone and walked around it (it is right along the road, but faces away from it). Taped to the bottom of the headstone is a sono pic and the words “Your First Grandson” were on it. I had done something similar when I was pregnant with Mini years ago and here was my brother showing our Mother a sneak peek of his son in utero.
I wept uncontrollably.
I just lost it, shaking so hard I had to hold the stone to steady myself.
After 13 years without my Mother, it really hit me like a wall how much she is missing. Her grandbabies. My daughter and my brother’s future son. I know she would have been a wonderful Grandma. There’s no doubt in my mind about that. It breaks my heart she’s not here right now.
I kissed and hugged the headstone, then walked back to my truck. I just sat there, hysterically crying. I’ve shed many tears for the loss of this woman, but I have never cried like this. I didn’t know how to stop.
I calmed down just enough to start driving home, crying all the way. My first car had broken wipers so when the rain poured it was hard to see. This was kind of the same effect.
By the time I pulled in my driveway, my head was pounding and my eyes were all swollen. Thank all that watches us I live less than 15 minutes away from the cemetery. I don’t think I would have made it home if the drive had been longer. I sat on my couch, just staring into space and cried some more.
I’m lucky I had the time with my Mother that I did. It just sucks that she’s not here when things like this happen. I feel her around me at times, but her presence would truly be a gift..