“And in the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.” – Abraham Lincoln
My eldest son turned 10 yesterday.
It was his first birthday that I did not celebrate with him ON his birthday.
It was his fathers day of custody and they went out to a hockey game, took some friends of my son, and my other son and had a good time. I have been invited to participate this evening in a similiar event but I wont feel the same to me. His birthday was yesterday and he already celebrated it.
It was difficult to say the least.
It was all too reminiscent of my daughter not being here on her birthdays.
One would think that missing nearly 22 years of my daughters birthdays would harden me to the fact that I missed my sons.
Mommies are supposed to be with their children on their birthday. Sure, I saw him in the morning, sang him happy birthday, put him on the school bus but it wasn’t quite the same.
This was the first birthday in divorce land. I will have to plan something different for next year. This I have some control over.
My daughters? All rights terminated on May 19, 1986. My rights, feelings, desires, birthday wishes mean nothing. Right? (Wrong).
My daughters birthday comes up in a few months. I may still be under the "no present ban". I don’t know. As with Christmas, I will write her, inquire if it is okay to send a present. If she doesn’t respond, I will assume that means "no". Perhaps I will revert to days gone by and plant something for her. I used to plant trees and flowers on her birthday. I would watch them grow and imagine they were her growing and getting more beautiful with each passing day.
My children’s birthdays are days of celebration. If I cannot do it with them, I will for sure do it without them.
Maybe in some odd way, some parallel universe they will sense it.
Maybe they will hear me singing, horribly off key, "Happy Birthday to you…"