Yesterday was Mom's birthday. She'd have been 90. A lot of things happen in 90 years and she lived through most of them. That's pretty amazing, even if she almost made it to her day.
I always hated Mom's birthday. Not because of her, that was a separate issue. I hated her birthday because I never got my own birthday. Those few days in between our's were ignored in my house. Her birthday was mine, even though it wasn't. Sure, I got the usual kids sleepover with three of my friends. We'd take over the trailer in the driveway for a sleepover and we'd stay up way too late and giggle about the silliest, stupidest things.
But when it came to family celebrations, her's and mine were always the same day, the same meal, the same cake. I never understood why. There were three days in between us and those three days seemed pretty big to a kiddo.
I get my own day now. This year I do.
For the years I was more Mom to my boys and less daughter to my Mom, I'd have my own day too. But when she came to us, it reverted back. I reverted it, out of habit I'm sure. Last year it was too sad of a day and Mom was to sick so I skipped over the 50th birthday willingly. I didn't need Nifty Fifty gifts to remind me I was older, being a grandma hits that home. My friends didn't notice my day and my Mom wasn't able to. I was okay with that.
Not that I mind being older. As I've said before, I like me now. I know who I am, I fit in my skin and I like me better now than I did at twenty or thirty. I'm okay with who I've become, even through others might not be.
In two days I get older, officially. Some friends will notice, a couple probablywon't. I'll be happy to know what I've done with my life, I'll be sad not to have Mom to share my day with and I'll be grateful for all the times that she did share it. Who I am at almost fiftyone can see the memories a little clearer than who I used to be.
This year, yesterday, I celebrated Mom's birthday. Some drinks and some toasts, some conversation and tears with my brother. A long long walk with my camera and a lot of memories in my head. I think Mom would have had a nice birthday.
Happy birthday to Mom, she lived a long life.
Happy birthday to me, I know that I won't and I'm okay with that too.
Happy birthday to us Mom,
I'd gladly share our cake this year and when I blow out the candles my wish will be that you are wishing me a happy birthday too.
