Birthday Thoughts

Today, November 6, is my birthday. And I'm not starting this post out with that as a plot to have you all leave a comment or drop me an email with birthday wishes. Really. I am starting this post with that because today has meaning for me. Not because I am turning a year older, but because of what has happened on this day in the past.

Four years ago on this day, I was 39 weeks pregnant and in serious "nesting" mode. I cleaned the entire house like a mad-woman and enjoyed a nice dinner out with Andy. Two day later, on November 8, Ethan was born.

Last year on this day, I was in the car taking the kids somewhere when my dad called. Mom was in the hospital. I wasn't surprised, but I was concerned. This, of course, was the beginning of the crazy, intense, uncertain time that culminated with her death two months later.  

I remember being at dinner with Andy on my birthday last year. We were at a newer place in town that was impossible to get into. I think Andy made reservations in early September for our Tuesday evening meal. It was small and quaint. The food was delicious, the atmosphere was perfect. It was at this place that I spoke with Andy for the very first time about my real fears that my Mom was going to die. I had no idea what I was going to do without her, what we were going to do without her. She was, after all, the glue of our family. I remember feeling guilty that I thought she was going to die, like I should be hopeful. After all, she was. But I just didn't see it. I was scared.

The week prior shed some light for me. My Mom could barely move and the things in life that brought her joy - her family and especially her grandchildren - could not even bring motivation or a smile to her. I remember how she barely made it over to our house on Halloween to see the kids dressed up. She came at the prompting of my dad, and stayed for 10 minutes. That, by the way, was the last time she was in our house. I also remember how she barely made it to Ethan's birthday party three days later. Again, my dad prompted her to get up, get dressed and get going. And again, she stayed for a short time. On both occasions, she looked miserable...she looked a way I had never seen her look before. She looked ill, diseased, and she also looked sad. In my mind I wondered if she knew this was her last Halloween, and the last birthday party for Ethan she'd see.

I remember these things now because they are so fresh and were happening just one year ago. I don't know if I will always "associate" my birthday with the day my Mom first went into the hospital to fight her final battle, but I'm sure I will remember it as such. Sure, there are so many other things that I remember about my Mom and my birthday as well, like her singing "Happy Birthday" on my voicemail, or her birthday cards that she always mailed ridiculously early, or our birthday shopping sprees. Of course today, I miss those things.

It's amazing though how today, an entire year after these events happened, I feel even closer to my Mom than I did then. Perhaps she was fighting fate and I was running from it for fear of what might happen, and as a result we just danced around what was really happening. What's that called in psychology...the Avoidance Theory? I guess it doesn't matter what it's called or what we did. What does matter is that I do remember and hope that in time, I will remember will not quite such a heavy heart.

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