Re-Claiming

My "real" birthday is January 21st.  I have not celebrated it on that day since I was 19.  That year my father chose to leave right after my birthday celebration.  I knew he was doing it; it was this miasma of hurt that flowed over everything that day.  But I hated it.  I hated watching the pain in my mom and my sister's faces.  I hated the fact that he thought I was not supposed to care.  The next year I could not dream of celebrating on that day.  Everything was raw and fresh.  I chose to celebrate my birth on September 9th instead.  It was my grandfathers birthday and he was someone who I loved and admired deeply.  A therapist could make all sorts of very logical connectionis about this.  They would probably be true.  My father and I don't have a relationship.  He remained close to my sister but although I tried to have a relationship with him, it didn't work out.  He moved across country and never told me.  I am not one for begging or needing to be beaten over the head to get the point, so that ended things.

My kids have   always known the story of how my "new" birthday came about.  In some ways it has been helpful to have a painful experience like that.  They have experienced greater losses than I but there is a thread of understanding  and connection that they feel because of this.

Except that KC feels it is wrong.  He spoke with Kirsty yesterday and informed her that they had to bring me breakfast in bed tomorrow. Kirsty reminded him that  the kids and I usually leave to go shopping before she gets up in the morning.  KC was adament:  "She can at least have a piece of toast in bed Mom," he said.  Kirsty reminded him that we always have a big party in September.  "I know Mom" he responded, "but this is the day she was BORN that we are talking about here."

I've not thought about my actual birthday in years.  Unless I need to renew my license it is a non issue to me. But my son's love and sincerity is so touching that tomorrow I will really enjoy my toast in bed!