Here comes “that”day again.

Full disclosure here.  Today is a day that I like to see come and go—My Birthday.

I don’t know if I ever “celebrated” my birthday, but I do remember when I made a subconscious decision NOT to “celebrate”. It was my 22nd Birthday. It was a Thursday. I remember it like it was yesterday.  It was the day that doctors at St. Joseph’s Hospital told my family that my maternal grandmother would not make it through the night. I was heartbroken…devastated…afraid.  I spent my 22nd Birthday on deathwatch.

My grandmother was everything to me. If Thelma and Louise could be 43 years apart in age, then that would be us. I think my grandmother’s spirit and will would not have allowed her to rest in peace if she would have made her transition on my birthday.

Thankfully, my grandmother made it through the night and within a few days appeared to be improving.  I remember the Tuesday evening following my birthday, she was talking more than she had in a long time.  In my mind, God was about to perform in modern day miracle; but in reality, God was giving her a chance to say “Goodbye”.  Thursday evening (a week to the day after my birthday, she went home to be with God.  That was December 22, 1994.  Three days later I would experience my first Christmas without her.  There was no joy. No presents. No family dinner.  Two days after Christmas her body was laid to rest.

Each year leading up to my birthday, I relive “that” night over and over again. I try to find joy in the day and in the thought of celebrating (don’t get me wrong, I always thank God for his grace and mercy and allowing me to see another birthday), but sometimes I feel my family and friends are more excited about the day than I am. I usually go out to dinner, but it is more so out of obligation to my family, rather than of celebration.  Today, I felt so much love from those who love me and for that I am grateful.  But just under the surface are memories of that night 22 years ago. I somewhat feel like a brat for not being over the top with joy in turning a year older.

Christmas is so hard too.  It was easier to get through the holiday season before I became a mother; but now I have to bury my feelings of sadness to make sure my son’s Christmas memories are filled with Joy.

This year, mentally, I did make (and still working at it) a conscious decision to celebrate…but the sadness is winning the battle so far. But as I write this blog, I just had a revelation…If my grandmother felt that my born day was so important that she would fight to live a bit longer, then why should I not celebrate the day God saw fit to give me life!  Wow!

So, I am writing this quick blog as a way for me to make a conscious effort to help me move from this “spot” of birthday/holiday loneliness and to celebrate the life that I am blessed to have. This post is not fancy. It may have typos. No pictures.  It’s just me getting some feelings out and if by chance someone stumbles upon my little blog and who maybe feeling ‘some kinda way’ during this time of year; know that I am praying for you and I ask that you remember this little girl who still misses her grandmother dearly.