Tag: birthday

98 years since

General

Today was my mom’s birthday, although she isn’t around anymore to celebrate. She passed away in June of 2001 from lung cancer. Today marks the 98th year since her birth, an immeasurably long time. The years since she passed are also long but in a different way. My memories of her are fragmented. I see her in flashes, from many different situations.

The first memory that flashes up are of the most recent time I spoke to her. She was in her bed, and we were watching TV. I don’t remember what was playing. I just sat there on the bed next to her, holding her hand. I’d come over straight after work. The urge to spend as much time as possible with her was so strong, I felt guilty for going home that evening, and going to work.

Mom was still lucid. This was a few days before the hospice nurse had started upping her dose of morphine. Understandably mom was coughing, a lot. She was always thin and frail; we would tease her about her bird legs (it seems mean now but that’s how our family talked; just stating facts.) But with the cancerous cells choking off her ability to breath, replacing her good cells, she had shrunken even more.

We still had conversations, though. I did not, and do not, believe that any part of us survives death, so when death is on the line I know I need to be present. And, reader, death is nearly always on the line. I would ask mom about her favorite movies, or favorite songs. I’d ask her where she learned to cook. I’d ask about her dreams, and her regrets.

With hindsight it is easy to see that mom was almost certainly neurodivergent, since my dad, my sister, and I am. At the time, however, I just knew that her personality had a mixture of crankyness and silliness in almost a two-to-one mixture. The crankiness never bothered me much; I tuned it out. It was just mom. It was never biting, not when she turned it toward me. But the silliness was special. She’d make an odd joke. Suddenly break into a huge grin. It was like being dazzled by an oncoming headlight after driving on a dark highway.

I can’t keep one image in mind; I see her as she was throughout my life. She’s young, dressed up in her best, and we’re going over to Aunt Phyllis’ house for the Hayner Family Christmas. All the cousins my age would hang out and find some side room to conspire, gossip, and play; the adults would wander around, or sit in the living room, and talk and laugh. My mom was one of 13 children, giving me plenty of uncles and aunts and cousins, so the house would be full of people, spilling out into the yard, the driveway, the backyard. Mom was the second-oldest and she wore her Oldest Sister role well, praising her siblings’ new jobs, or the food they’d brought to the potluck. I can see her sitting on the couch, cigarette held like a magic wand, wreathed in nicotine smoke.

I swear, these are the good memories. Maybe I’m not explaining myself well?

I wanted this post to be full of stories but this draft appears to just be me reminiscing. I do miss mom. I wonder how she’d react to things today. Happy birthday, mom. The world is lesser without you in it.

Edited to add: The original draft of this post said mom, my dad, my sister, and me were neurotypical. I meant neurodivergent. I regret the error. – BAM 28 October 2024

Half-birthdays should be A Thing™

General

Today is my half-birthday. I’ve been trying to make that A Thing™ for a long time. My friends and family haven’t taken to the idea, however. I’m sure they have their reasons, considering they haven’t celebrated my, or anyone’s, half-birthday for 5 decades, so I forgive them. I would still love to make today, the 28th of June, the day I celebrate my birth, for one major reason.

One way to celebrate a half-birthday: cupcake!

If you’ve mentally done the math you can immediately see the problem, right? Six months from today in either direction lands on the 28th of December, and having a birthday on that date just sucks. It’s smack dab in the wasteland between two major winter holidays; the hegemony ensures that everyone is aware of and probably celebrates (or at least observes) Christmas, and the calendar itself enforces New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, making them impossible to ignore. Those holidays are heavy hitters, imposing their existence on the entire population.

And my birthday just gets overwhelmed by the giants. Few people have the attention or even resources to put together a separate celebration for anyone. Look, I know I’m complaining a bit here, I accept that. It was more difficult when I was younger, much younger. Lots of kids (not all of them, of course) celebrated their birthdays during the school year or in the summer when more kids and their parents were available to put a party together. Not so in the doldrums of December. Y’all were tired.

When I got older, it became less of an issue but still an issue. Starting over 20 years ago, my family began celebrating Christmas by traveling somewhere warm and sunny. And so to be in that place on Christmas Day, but to avoid other heavy travel days, my birthday often became a traveling day. My finances haven’t been great recently, so I often stay home, house-sitting for those on vacation, or I am otherwise unable to travel. That means my recent birthdays have been either in airports, or separated from my family with only my closest friends to help me remain grateful for another year.

I’m not gonna lie, I’ve enjoyed some epic birthdays. One year me and my friends had an amazing dinner and then visited the Acropolis, a famous steak house in Portland (oh, and also it’s a strip club.) I do have pictures from that night but, respectfully, won’t be posting them. Several of my recent birthdays were celebrated in song, with karaoke. I love karaoke, even if I’m not a strong singer. A close friend once said that singing is about volume and enthusiasm, and when I want to, I’ve got plenty of both.

And I am, honestly, grateful for my life, my friends, and my family; it’s just the random circumstances of the day of my birth that I’m focusing on here, I promise. So yes I’m whining a bit but this half-birthday idea was my attempt to do something about it! What if we celebrated my one day a year (everybody gets one!) that’s all about me… in the summer? Wouldn’t that be great? Warm weather, grilled meats, no pesky overwhelming holidays encroaching… It would, it would be great. Let’s do it! If not this year, then next year!

Tracy’s gone ’round the sun 54 times today

General

Today is my bestie’s birthday. Tracy, I hope today was your best day yet, but not your best day ever. Many more and better to come!

I was going to write about the misunderstanding that pretty much sparked Tracy and my friendship, a friendship that has lasted for more than 24 years, but it turns out I’ve already written about it, briefly, at the start of this post, back in 2007:

Dream time

It’s a good post, but the focus there isn’t on Tracy, which is what it should be on her birthday.

When Tracy and I first became friends, we each admired the other’s honesty and bluntness. We quickly found out that we could safely say whatever was on our mind to each other, good or bad, and the other one would not take it the wrong way or get upset. Well, most of the time. But it was easier with each other than it was for other friendships, at least for my part.

Tracy was religious when we first met, and she might still be, but back then, to her, religious meant Christian, and specifically that weird modern American evangelicalism. It was the culture she was in, more than any kind of philosophy that she’d examined and concluded was right for her. And because of that, when she found out that I was an atheist, she was curious. She told me once that I was the first athiest she had ever known in her life. So she would ask me about it.

My memories of those conversations are fuzzy now. It’s entirely possible that I was overly proud of my rational lack of belief in God, or any gods, in a way that I would personally find insufferable if someone did that to me, today. But I liked Tracy, and we worked together, and so I worked really hard to just explain what I thought about things, and not poke Tracy’s beliefs that much. I do remember that she was surprised that I had actually read the Bible, in at least two editions, cover-to-cover. I pointed out that Christians don’t tend to read the Bible the way someone reads a novel, they study it, in sections, lead by a pastor or other authority figure, who picks out passages and explains the meaning they want the Bible Study Group to understand.

And over the years, Tracy has lost that specific kind of American Christianity worldview. I’m sure she believes there’s something out there, but she’s also aware that it’s probably not the evangelical conception of God. The world we live in is bigger than that.

I wish I could remember those conversations because those were the moments where I really got to understand Tracy. She’s got a big heart, and endless curiosity, and also a strong sense of justice. And infinite loyalty to people she sees as worthy, which, astonishingly, includes me, somehow. I’m a mess, and selfish, and weird, but she’s always got my back.

And I have hers. I would never knowingly let her down. She’s the best bestie.

If you’re reading this, take a moment to send Tracy some good thoughts. It’s not prayer, probably. Just positive vibes.