The Evolution Of A Birthday...

Today is my forty eighth birthday. It is also the eighth birthday that I have had without Mack in my life. I have reached a stage where I can listen to people wish me a happy birthday, actually hear what they’re saying and mean it when I thank them. But the day does come with sadness and I know it always will. Mack died in July 2006 and only one month later, David had his birthday. Mine followed two months after that. It was a really horrible time for us, we were hanging on by threads and struggling to survive.

For several years after, we never said ‘happy birthday’ to each other, much less wrote it in cards. All we could manage was ‘birthday’. We didn’t ask for nor did we expect any presents from each other, a hug was enough. There was a silent acknowledgement that these days were just very sad and for years, as with all of the holidays and the milestones, birthdays were no longer a big deal.

Of course, for Ruby’s sake, we did play the part. We needed her to know that her parents were there for her so we each made sure that she was able to either make or buy a card and get a small present for the other. It was important that she was able to gleefully hand these to us and see us smile when we opened them. We needed her to feel that her world was still normal. So what if we had to fake it for a few years.

Over the years we have evolved. This is what happens in the course of life. You change, you grow, you evolve. Now, we can and do celebrate our birthdays; I had dinner with my girlfriends on Friday and we laughed all night long; I went out for dinner on Saturday with my family and had a lovely time. Some years birthdays are really low key affairs and others, well, David turned fifty this summer and we threw a party. Was I hit by a wave of sadness on that day? Did I get emotional? Yes on both counts because, as with every celebration, a piece of our family was missing. But then, with it’s predictable flair, daily life took over and I got busy with what I had to do. And you know what, the party was great.

This morning, as usual, I woke up to my wall of Mack’s t-shirts but like every birthday for the last eight years, I lay in bed for a few minutes and acknowledged his void in my life with tears. I don’t wake up like this every morning. It only happens on certain days and this is one of them. I will head out to work but first, I will go to the cemetery to bring my boy his apples and then my day, like every other one, will go on. I am grateful to my family and friends and will accept their birthday wishes with true appreciation. I know that people mean well and are genuinely sincere when they tell me to have a great day and I hope I do. And tomorrow, as usual, the sun will rise and although I will be one step closer to being an old lady, I also know that I have come a long way.

As I thought about what I was going to write for this post, I suddenly remembered that my husband gave me a card that first year. I remember that it was filled with such sadness but there was also a tremendous amount of beauty and I carried it with me for days. It made me cry but back then, everything made me cry. I hadn’t read it in the longest time and so, I took it out. Although what was printed in the card said so much, what stood out was what David had written and once again, reading it made me cry. “My Dearest Gail, On this saddest of birthdays, I found this card. Every time I read it, it makes me cry. The words above speak to me as I hope they speak to you. On this day and for this year, I wish for you many things, the strength to get out of bed in the morning, the ability to find some laughter, joy and meaning in your days and the hope that over the horizon, there is a place where birthdays can be happy again.”

Fast forward to today and we have both made it over the horizon. We have learned how to celebrate again albeit in a different way. As with every day, we have found a balance between living life and grieving for Mack. Which way the scale tips depends on the day but we have both made it to a place that years ago, we thought was next to impossible. The dictionary defines evolution as a gradual process in which something changes into a different and usually more complex form. At forty eight, I am now the oldest and the wisest I have ever been but there is still so much room for more. And so, this is my birthday present to myself, along with another tattoo. I acknowledge that I have not reached my evolutionary peak, I don’t know if any of us ever do. As long as we live, we evolve and this perpetual process, this ongoing, never ending, roller coaster of a process, will lead you to discover things about yourself, both good and bad but all necessary to navigate the rocky and unstable terrain of life.