My Birthday sans Becky

Today was my 43rd birthday. I wasn't to surprised as I've been expecting it for nearly a year. However, it was a tough one, and not in the normal sense.

Every once in a while a birthday will REALLY bother the person having it. The birthday that bothered me most, in all my 43 years, was my 26th. Isn't that a hoot?

It bothered me, because in my perspective, anyone under 25 wasn't expected to be able of taking care of themselves. They didn't have to know who they were or where they were going. But in my crack-pot mine, I should have magically known those things before I turned 26 and I didn't. It bothered me for six months before my birthday and a good six months after it.

Thirty didn't bother me. Hell, even forty didn't bother me. And in the truest sense of the word, 43 didn't either. It wasn't the age, it was my first birthday as an adult that Becky wasn't around for.

We lived hours from each other, and probably didn't see each other more than once or twice a year (in a good year). But Becky was religious about never missing a holiday. I got cards from her for Valentines, Mother's Day, Anniversary, Birthday, and Christmas. Ever once in a while, she'd send me a card for no reason at all. And she ALWAYS called me on my birthday. She was usually the first one to do so.

I get up this morning knowing I won't be hearing from Becky, and already my day is sad. I have a good cry before Will wakes up. No calls or emails all morning.

Will and I leave the house and run some errands, during which I get a text from my best friend and she wants to meet for lunch and let the boys play. She hasn't felt well for the last week and is in the middle of planning a big trip out of town, so I don't hold it against her that she forgot today was my birthday. The entire time we're at the playscape, the boys are fighting. Will is meaner than usual and his best friend is more emotional than normal.

On the way to meet her, Tori had called. After a one-sentence, "Happy birthday, Mom", she quickly turned to what she needed to tell me; a delayed trip and a late expected arrival. On a cell phone, and traveling, she didn't have much time to talk.

Cutting lunch short due to the boys fighting, we come home and Byjo calls. She is loving and sincere, but she is also on her way to the movies with her kids and has to go. Our brief conversation managed to drift into my isolation from the family and possible ongoing depression, which was . . . well, depressing.

I got off the phone and cleaned the toilet in Will's bathroom since Tori will be staying at the house a few days and a 4-year old boy's bathroom is disgusting. While I'm at it, I clean ours as well. My major accomplishment for the day, clean toilets.

Bonnet calls me later and wishes me a happy birthday, to the tune of "I didn't even have enough money to buy you a card. I saw this really cute card I wanted to get you. But I didn't have any money." I could hear that she was upset she hadn't been able to do anything for my birthday. And I know she's been missing the family. But sometimes Bonnet reminds me of Eeyore; always talking really slow and in a low, depressed voice. She asked me if I had done anything fun today and I told her, "I cleaned the toilets."

A woman is stopping by tomorrow to pick up photos to make me a scrapbook. I don't trust a stranger with my girls photos, so I was sorting out my childhood photos for over an hour. Making notes. Organizing them. Crying, for their were many photos of Becky and I as children.

As you can imagine, I was a pretty jolly person by the time poor Steve got home from work. I put on some makeup and he took us to a steak house for dinner, I had two margaritas (oh yeah, and I ate something to). On the way home, he picked up flowers and a cake, we also stopped by and got snow cones. (Hey, it's damn hot here.)

When we got back to the house, I opened presents from him and Will and we ate cake. The boys sang me Happy Birhtday, and they sounded like they meant it.

On the whole, I'd have to say from 5-9 this evening was a very good birthday.

Well, any day, birthday or not, that you make it out the other end of can't be considered all bad. As my mother-in-law, Dona, says, "It beats the alternative."