Thursday, July 1, 2010


I was born on the day of my baby shower.
My Mom hated all things social, and so she started
praying that something would happen so that she wouldn't have to
go to her shower. Something did happen, me,
three weeks early.
Every year, on my birthday, my Mom would tell me that story.
Every year, on my birthday, my Mom would make me a cake.
She took a cake decorating class when my brother
and I were small, so that she could decorate any type of cake for us.
One year, there was a merry-go round cake.
One year she made me a doll cake, a Raggedy Ann cake,
and when I turned 16, she made me a giant hamburger cake.
I had the privilege of spending almost every one of my birthdays
with my Mom. Last year, while she was undergoing chemo,
she made a point of making sure her chemo schedule would allow
her to spend my birthday with me. She wanted to make me a cake.
As she said, a birthday is a way that you tell someone you're happy
that they were born.
My Mom always made sure that we knew she was happy
we were born.
This year, I had been dreading my birthday.
I couldn't think of the day without my Mom.
Dad would ask me what I wanted, what I wanted to do, and
I just couldn't think of it. I hated the idea of celebrating the day without my
My birthday is also our older kids moving in anniversary.
Every year, on my birthday morning, they get a cupcake, with a candle,
and the privilege of hearing their parents sing
"Happy Anniversary" to them.
This year, on my birthday, they celebrated their four
year anniversary in our family.
They also celebrated the fact that they have a Mommy.
I knew, that for them, it was important that I celebrate my birthday.
I knew that my Mom would have wanted me to do that.
So I did. I woke up, thought of my Mom. Went for a run, thought of my
Mom. Sang Happy Anniversary, thought of my Mom.
Went out for breakfast with my Dad, Jon, and the kids
and thought of my Mom.
Missed my Mom, thought of last year with my Mom.
Was so thankful for my Mom.

A few months ago, my Dad asked someone to marry him.
I haven't written about it here, because I wasn't sure
how I felt about it. No, that's not true, I was sure.
I hated the idea. I hated the idea that life had to move
forward. To me, it seemed like life should have stopped
when my Mom left. She deserved that.
She wouldn't have wanted that.
Cheryl, my Dad's fiance, is one of the sweetest and kindest people
that I have had the privilege of knowing. She loves
my Dad, loves my kids, and loves me.
She makes my Dad laugh. Something that
he hasn't done in a LONG time.
She makes him happy, something my Mom would
have wanted.
Yesterday, on my first birthday without my Mom,
she made me a cake. She knew that my Mom
made me one every year, she wanted to be sure that I had a birthday cake.
She helped to make my birthday so special. She cared enough about
my Dad, to care about me, and for that I am truly grateful.
Last year, I blew out my birthday candles, and I wished with
all of my heart that my Mom would be here this year. She wasn't.
This year, I blew out my candles. I didn't have the heart to make a wish,
because I had everything that I could want seated around my dining
room table. I have a family that loves me. That cared enough
about me to carry me through a birthday without my Mom.
I have a family that was happy I was born and wanted
to let me know it.
Thank you Dad, Cheryl, Jon, Big K.,
Doodle Bug, P. and J.
Thank you for making my birthday so special.
I love you all more than you will ever know.


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