of birthdays, celebrated past

Today I wondered into a store which I had passed several times and so wanted to visit, but never did. I decided to go today to see what they had, and to perhaps search out a little something for a friend.

The store was filled with lots of little wonderful things. Things that glittered. Fuzzy things. Things that chimed. There was lots of paper and cards and things for babies and brides. Clever things and silly things. Things you probably wouldn't buy for yourself.

Among the shelves was a little bird paperweight. On the base it read, "A Mother's Love is Best". Part of me wanted to smash that little bird. It isn't that I don't believe that saying, although I don't think it is always true. It was more about missing something. And having this little statuette remind me of it among potential birthday gifts wasn't helping.

I think that even as we grow into adults, there are still things that we come to expect or at least want. One of them is that your parents will remember your birthday. It makes sense. They helped get you here, shouldn't they be the biggest celebrators of the day? They have been doing it as long as you, no?

Of course, I know that there are many people out there like myself who this isn't the case for, and may not have been true for a long time for all kinds of reasons. There are estranged parents and parents who are no longer alive mingled in with those who just don't get it.

I think this is why I am such a champion of birthdays. I try very hard to remember people, even if it is just sending a card in the mail. I do my best so that whatever I send arrives on time, although it isn't always possible. I genuinely feel bad when things are late, even though I also know that it can help extend the celebration. I just know what it feels like to be forgotten and I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

For those who have never been miffed by a parent on a birthday, you might want to (re-)visit the movie "Sixteen Candles". Although that will only get you so far. Having a parent forget your birthday for another sibling's impending nuptials is one thing; having a parent repeatedly ignore or do something hurtful on your birthday is a hard experience to describe. If you aren't careful though, it can make you feel like there has to be something wrong with you. It is much like the owner of a dog, kicking it in the gut for no real reason other than it was there.

Sometimes I think maybe forgetting is better than some of thing parents can do. Showing up drunk to a party (always fun). Presenting their child (now 'of age') with a bill for his portion of the living expenses is also not recommended. Writing a hurtful note in a card, starting an argument, and so on all seem somehow worse than just being overlooked or seemingly forgotten.

My Flickr stream is filled with birthday parties for my friends' little ones. It makes me wonder how things go to these happy joyous occasions to that other place. Many of us who are now ignored also had cakes and parties and candles and ice cream and presents way back when. Is there some age at which we are no longer cute enough? Good enough? Innocent enough? I know it isn't that simple, but when you watch a parent stare into his baby's face - you know the look - it makes you wonder how things can change so drastically.


on the night stand :: The Perfect Scoop

i want to be a mom

There, I've said it. I am now on the record with the universe, although I don't think that this is entirely a secret.

For the last several years I have tried to turn that pain that is mother's day (for me) around. I started by sending three store-bought cards to friends who are moms, and on Saturday sent close to seventy postcards featuring the photos above.

Losing a mother is hard. It doesn't matter what your relationship was like with her, it will be painful. The person who brought you into this world is no more, and so if nothing else you are forced to realize your own fleeting mortality on some level.

Seeing other people with their mothers is hard. It is even harder when said people treat said mothers badly. It makes me very angry. And maybe even more so because I know there is no way to explain. And thus, very little I can do about it. It is like being on the other side of a locked door, holding the key.

This year I decided to stay home. I didn't want to watch the world celebrate something that I couldn't. Reportedly nearly 40% of people were going out to eat yesterday. I didn't feel up to dealing with crowds.

We sent flowers to B's mother and his sister. I feel like perhaps we should have sent two separate bouquets (B's mother is visiting his sister in New York), but it seemed like the best option at the time. It was a beautiful arrangement and included a nice vase which I figured his sister could keep and hopefully use. I don't know. We got an email from the mother. Nothing from his sister. It was probably wrong that we didn't call too. But I never know what to say and really I wasn't all there yesterday. I wish it wasn't so complicated.


on the night stand :: ultreo ultrasound toothbrush

taking it all in

This is far from a great photo. But I think the messages on this poster (that was in a window on a store in Berkeley) are important.

They are especially important when we live in a world where people feel it is a good idea to go shopping at the crack of dawn. Some apparently even felt it necessary to skip out on Thanksgiving dinner and instead sit in a pup tent in line in the parking lot of a big box store! Even worse, some people felt that they shouldn't have to wait, and calls went out to 911 about people cutting shortly before the doors to the stores opened!!

I stayed in today. The goal was to clean up the kitchen. Not sure I did that 100%, but the turkey stock is just about ready. Most of the laundry is done. And I am hoping to finish a book that is due at the library tomorrow.

on the night stand :: The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters