Happy Birthday, Joan!

 There are some days we remember for no apparent reason. It could be a random encounter with someone where nothing very important happened but it sticks in our mind for some reason, such as the day I was standing in the ketchup aisle at the supermarket and a man I didn’t know engaged me in a conversation about meatloaf recipes and a dinner party he was hosting. It has no significance to me yet I remember it anyway. There is the day my daughter and I were shopping at a department store and I was mistaken for someone named Dot. There we were, looking at the costume jewelry display when a random woman said to me, “I thought you were my friend Dot, but she uses a cane and you don’t so you’re not her.” Then she walked away. We still laugh about that. Then there are days that had some significance at some point in our lives that we still remember long after they mean something to us. Like June 3rd, my childhood friend Joan’s birthday.

Joan and I met in the first grade and to be honest, I was a little afraid of her. She was a tomboy, loud, direct, and bold. She’d just ask you a question if she wanted to know something about you and you answered if for no other reason than you wanted her to move on to someone else. I was more timid, less sure of myself and I felt intimidated yet I liked her. She lived within walking distance, maybe 1/2 mile away if you cut through the school fields. We lived in an old cottage type house and she lived in a split level ranch in “the development” as we referred to those houses. That whole neighborhood and the elementary school used to be farmland. When I was very young my 2 older brothers and I used to walk across the street and watch the cows in the fields. I don’t actually remember that but was told by my mother. I was perhaps 4 when the school was built, and the houses as well I imagine. Joan and I remained good friends through graduation from high school.  We played together in elementary school, and in our tween years in middle school, when I was being bullied, she was supportive and protective of me to the point of fighting in my place when bullies ganged up on me, telling me to go home with 2 of our other friend group while she took care of things. For my 14th birthday she somehow talked my parents into letting her give me a puppy, which was my heart’s desire.  In high school we remained friends and added some new friends to our circle, one of whom, Cathy, I am still close to today even though physical distance separates us. Hanging out at Joan’s house listening to music and talking about life and goofing around took the place of sleepovers and late night tv movies once we were in our mid to late teens. Boyfriends and proms were all experiences we shared, culminating in graduation. Somehow after graduation we lost touch, and briefly communicated when email first became a thing nearly everyone did. We even had a reunion of our little trio, Joan and Cathy and me for an afternoon at my house. That was about 35 years ago, and we haven’t been in touch with Joan since. People do come and go throughout our lives, it’s just how it is. No animosity, fond memories, but we grow apart, our lives take different paths.

I don’t know why I always remember Joan’s birthday but I do. Every year I wish her a happy birthday. So, Happy Birthday Joan! Wherever you are.

Events of Life

I can’t believe it’s been a month since I last posted anything here! February and March are busy with events at my house. There was, of course, Valentine’s Day followed 10 days later by my husband’s final day of work ever—Happy Retirement! early since they ended his position and closed his location—and 4 days later we celebrated my birthday!  I had invited some people over for a birthday fun and games day where I made lasagna and meatballs and we ladies played games. We arranged ahead f time for the guys to get my husband out of the house for about an hour so we could decorate his recliner as a surprise retirement celebration. They went to Harbor Freight and all found some gadget or other they just had to have. He was very surprised when he got home! I was a wonderful day.

Bruce was very happy with the surprise and won a few dollars off the lottery tickets!

The birthday cake was from an ice cream shop in town, so beautiful and delicious! They use both chocolate syrup and cookie crunchiest between the layers, one vanilla and one chocolate.

Sometimes I like to just contemplate the sky and the clouds, and make up a rhyme to fit my mood. 

The next event we had was our 40th wedding anniversary! We didn’t have a party, but had our older daughter come stay with her sister for a few hours while we went to dinner. We went to a restaurant we went to for a friend’s 90th birthday party last fall. It was lovely and we were seated in front of a roaring fire and dined on some very rich food which we decided was delicious but probably not good for us since we both had some tummy discomfort afterwards because we don’t eat like that normally. Oh well! It was worth it! This picture was a candid shot someone took as we were getting ready to cut the cake on our wedding day. Who are those people with dark hair? 

 My birthday gift this year was more extravagant than usual. I got to pick out a new chair! Of course it inspired me to write a rhyme. It reclines too! I love relaxing in a comfy chair, don’t you?

We have one more event this month, it’s my husband’s birthday in a couple weeks. I think I’ll have just enough time to rest up from these eventful weeks before I gear up for Easter.

Farewell Summer 2021

 

               It was such a hot, humid, uncomfortable summer and I am happy to see it go! I really just didn’t enjoy most of it this year, I was too busy being cranky because it was not weather I’m comfortable in. It seems pretty silly now, but that’s probably because beautiful cooler fall weather is here.  September was another fairly busy month, we had Hillary’s birthday, (she had 3 small parties!), and in those waning days of the heat our air conditioning broke and couldn’t be repaired so we had to replace it.  This has been our year for expensive things needing repair or replacing!

               Part of the air conditioning unit is in the attic right outside the door to Hillary’s room in the dining room.  It’s a tight space, and not a big surprise that one of the workmen doing the installation slipped and sent part of the dining room ceiling crashing to the floor.  Thankfully nobody was injured and he didn’t fall through, and I had already gotten Hillary up and into the living room to wait until time to leave for her day program.  It did, however, leave a gaping hole with gross looking insulation hanging down which my brother referred to as an “attic cat”.  Ha ha! My brother can really be a smart aleck!  So for a week we had workmen in the house.  They were pleasant, and did a great job, but there’s always a mess to clean after any home improvement.  I think I’ll be finding dust for months to come in spite of wielding broom, vacuum, and mop when everything was done.  The chattiest guy was the contractor the HVAC company hired to repair the hole in the ceiling.  He looked like Shaggy from the Scooby Doo cartoons, and had lots to say about any subject that popped into his head.  I learned that his girlfriend is selling her house and moving to North Carolina, but I’m not clear on whether or not he’s moving there with her, or just helping her sell her house here and find a new one there.  He drives his 91 year old mother to lunch every day, and helped an 82 year old friend pack up and move to a senior living community.  His friend seems to be  feeling sad and isolated so he’s (Shaggy) thinking of starting a game night with friends at the 82 year old’s new apartment to keep him socially active and sharp of mind.  Shaggy’s a nice person, and he did a great job doing the repair, but I was exhausted after he left from all the conversation.  Of course, I’d rather have someone like that working in my house than a cranky, swearing under his breath, in a big hurry to leave person.  I didn’t take his picture, of course, but there is a before and after of the hole below.

               It was also Daughter’s Day, which is probably a holiday made up on social media, but it was an opportunity to share a picture of and say something nice about my girls so I figured, what the heck?  That picture is also below.  I didn’t include any pictures of the birthday parties, and by some standards they weren’t really parties, but in our little corner of the world if you send in cupcakes on someone’s birthday that’s a party.  If you buy a little cake and write “Happy Birthday” on it, add candles, have some gifts for the honoree, that’s a party too even if there’s only 3 of you besides the birthday girl.  Also, if you invite 3 more people on a different day, put out snacks, order pizzas and have an ice cream cake and sing “Happy Birthday”, that’s a party too.  So those were Hillary’s 3 parties to celebrate her.  We all deserve to be celebrated by family and friends, don’t you think?

               So I say farewell to Summer and hello to Autumn!  I love the chilly dry air and brilliant sunshine, and the cool rainy days as well.  I can’t wait for all the colors to come to the trees and see that first heavy frost coating the grass.  It’s so refreshing!

                                                             Attic Cat

                                                        Much better!

                            Fierce, brave, and each special in her own way.

Birthday Post, Late

         I was born in the hiccup of time between February and March in a year with an extra day.  It’s a day that many don’t understand, and leads to some confusion as to when to celebrate my birthday in the 3 years in between when there is no 29^th of February.  I think the extra day occurs because the ancient folks who made the calendar we all go by couldn’t figure out another way to keep time and the seasons going along regularly.  I think it’s complicated and if I were more energetic I’d look it up and impart that wisdom to you but alas!  I am not going to do that.  Let’s just say they had a reason and leave it at that.  Getting back to when I celebrate, my mother always said that I was born the last day of February and I think that makes sense so I celebrate on whichever day is the last one of February.  Some people celebrate on March 1^st reasoning that I wasn’t born on February 28^th which I know but really it makes no sense to me to wait for the first day of March.  If, however, someone wants to wish me a happy day and give me cake or a gift on March 1^st I will graciously accept!

         My brain works differently than many other people’s brain.  It’s nice to be unique, but it does lead to some frustrations in dealing with others on a daily basis.  For instance, if I am giving someone directions to a place I will always give landmarks for them to look for along the way because that is what I look for when going someplace either new or that I don’t go very often.  When I am on the receiving end of directions I frequently am frustrated because generally I get only a couple street names, some mileage, and second left, third right, or something like that with no landmarks.  It leads to confusion and frustration for both of us.  At work the different way I think tends to lead to my coworkers trying to help me but actually making things more difficult.  I know it looks like I need help but in my mind all is organized so that I can get through my tasks quickly.  It’s nice that they want to help me so I try not to let my frustration make me cranky. Oh the perils of thinking differently!

         I don’t know for certain that being a “leap baby” makes my brain work in a unique way, but I like to think it does.  Having an unusual day of birth makes for a good conversation starter, even if it does lend an air of confusion as to when to celebrate it!

Year Twenty Two!

Twenty two years ago our second child was born. Outwardly beautiful and perfect, a true bundle of joy. Unknown to us at that time she was afflicted with Aicardi Syndrome. We had no clue exactly how this innocent little person would change our lives, our hopes and dreams, and shape us all into who we are today both individually and as a family. She came here not for us to teach her but for her to teach us.

Aicardi Syndrome includes malformation or complete absence of the corpus callosum and other brain deficits, retinal lesions with other eye abnormalities, scoliosis and other skeletal problems, and intractable seizures.  Life expectancy is shortened with the literature (at that time) stating 3 years maximum.

Recently we celebrated Hillary’s 22^nd birthday by taking her to a street fair in a neighboring town.  The weather was perfect with low humidity, air temperature around 70, a light breeze and a bright sun in a deep blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds.  As we wheeled her through the crowd occasionally one of the vendors leaned over to talk to her.  We told them it was her birthday and she ended up with a small collection of trinkets—stickers, key tags, and a balloon.  She enjoyed the extra attention and we had a nice time.  When we returned home we had chocolate birthday cake and ice cream which she loved, and some gifts wrapped in brightly colored shiny paper.  She enjoyed looking at the gifts but lost interest as we opened them and showed her what was inside.  Sometimes she’s a funny girl!  Over all she enjoyed her special day very much.

We have learned through Hillary that slowing down and enjoying the simplest of things is a good way to live, birthday cake is meant to be enjoyed without guilt, and every year survived should be celebrated for the gift that it is.

Like a Badge

            So many times I hear people lamenting their age, “I’m so old!” they’ll say, or “I can’t believe I’m turning (fill in the number)”.  Know what I say?  Wear your age proudly, like a badge.  Proclaim unapologetically that you are __ years old!  I am turning 53 this week, and I am happy to have survived this long.  It’s pretty amazing that any of us survive for long at all, considering that we all start as two little specs invisible to the naked eye that come together against all odds.  Then there are diseases and childhood in general to survive, not to mention those crazy teenage years during which many things happen that could  shorten our lives by quite a few years.  Not that I’ve had any life threatening health events or accidents, but really, sometimes life is so random and nobody ever knows which will be their final year.  So I say, the more candles on the cake the better—well, figuratively speaking anyway. You really have to be careful how many candles you put on a cake, depending on its size.  It would perhaps be better to make a rule that you must invite one person for each of your years in age to partake of cake with you so that you have a cake large enough to allow proper spacing of the candles.  I speak from experience.  There was the year that my husband turned 49 and, being a smart alecky kind of gal, I put 49 candles on a cake just big enough for the four of us.  Turned out it was too small for that much combustion.  After the first 20 or so candles were lit, they began lighting each other rendering my matches unnecessary.  Breathless from laughing and mild panic, my daughter and I called my husband into the kitchen to blow out the cake.  There was a lot of smoke, and a lot of wax on the slightly candle broiled frosting.  It’s a memory that I chuckle at every time I retell the story.  But I digress from the original subject which was age.  Be happy with whatever age you are, isn’t it great that you’re still here?

About September 14th

Today my baby turned 20.  It’s a happy day.  It’s a bittersweet day.  It’s an emotional day.  Special days are always a double edged sword where Hillary is concerned.  I’m happy she is still here on this Earth and not yet in Heaven.  Every visit with her neurologist for the past few years has started the same way—with Dr. G. sitting across from Hillary smiling, beaming, looking from her to me and saying, “Well, she’s still here.  She looks wonderful.”  Could I ask for a better doctor for my daughter?  He’s the only neurologist we’ve ever taken her to.  If you knew everything the diagnosis of Aicardi Syndrome entails you’d understand his attitude.   Most children with the syndrome don’t make it to their 20^th birthday.  Yes, I am grateful for every birthday we get to celebrate with Hillary.  Yet, it’s a difficult day for me.  First is the gift.  This is one thing that just drives home the fact that she is not like her peers.  There is not a gift that will make her smile with pleasure, except perhaps a bouquet of Mylar balloons.  I know it’s not about the gift.  I do, but she deserves gifts just as much as any other family member.  So we buy her gifts, new outfits, new shoes, lotions, and most things you would expect to purchase for a age girl she is.  Unlike her sister, who is excited by gifts and shows it, Hillary doesn’t appear to care much, except for the balloons.  So I wonder, is it about her, or about my feelings?  Is there a part of me trying to pretend she is not the way she is?  Or do I just want to do what is typical in case she truly understands so she won’t feel slighted?  Perhaps the other gifts do really make her happy, she just doesn’t or can’t show it, or perhaps I feel like her soul knows and appreciates our efforts.

She had a fun day at school.  The chorus sang happy birthday to her during class, I brought in cupcakes for her regular class and they had a little party for her after lunch.  She so much enjoys being around her peers.  She brought home a gift from her “school mom”, her aide.  It was a beautiful outfit.  Once at home, things were quiet.  We were the only two here most of the afternoon.  I gave her the balloons, which I knew would be her favorite gift and bring a smile, and we opened the card and gift she brought home.  There was an e-card from an aunt and uncle which she watched on my computer, and we went outside to wait for my husband to arrive home.  It was getting late for her, she is so tired by dinner time.  After a quick dinner we lit the candles on the cake and sang the happy birthday song.  She enjoyed looking at the candles, trying to touch them, but I am careful to hold the cake just out of her reach.  Cake and ice cream and then off to bed with her; she’ll open her gifts tomorrow.  She’ll appreciate them more when she’s not exhausted.

  I didn’t finish this post that day, so I continue it now.  Saturday we went to the mall, something Hillary enjoys.  We stopped in where her sister works to say hello.  My husband and I opened her gifts with her later in the day.  She didn’t seem impressed; in fact, she seemed a bit angry that we were blocking her toy with her gifts.  She’s a funny girl!  I’m sure she’ll enjoy watching the movies we gave her, and the sweater will keep her warm.  On Sunday, she received her sister’s gifts.  Her favorite was the pair of lined moccasins.  She smiled when they were put on her feet.  Later we took her to dinner at Cracker Barrel, where she enjoyed the double chocolate coca cola cake with vanilla ice cream for dessert.

I’d have to say that Hillary had a nice birthday.  Some things I know she liked, and some I’m not sure.  I think she knows that she is loved, and that’s the very best gift we could ever give her.  I survived without too much emotion.  On to the next emotional mine field……er, holiday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Birthday Memories

This year I have a “real” birthday, and although I may look like a 52 year old woman, I’m having my 13th birthday. There are so many birthday memories; I hardly know which ones to talk about. Even though my oldest brother (sorry Doug, I don’t hold it against you!) told me one time that I didn’t have a birthday that year, (I was maybe 7?), which sent me crying to my mother, my family celebrated my birthday on the last day of February every year.

I have vague memories of sitting on the high step stool in our kitchen with my brothers and parents around the table singing “Happy Birthday”, clapping when I blew out the candles on the cake my mother made and decorated, and watching as I opened my gifts. Happy times! In Kindergarten we had the “birthday chair” which the child being honored sat in while their classmates formed a circle and sang to them. Afterward there would be cupcakes brought in by Mom for the whole class. I recall in elementary school going to other girls’ birthday parties at their homes, my friend Nancy’s featured a spaghetti dinner her mother prepared, cake and raspberry sherbet. Sometimes there were games in the finished basement and soda, sometimes games of tag and hide and seek outside. I remember one such party at my house when I turned 12. I vaguely remember lots of giggling, running in and out of the house, a cake with vanilla frosting and of course lots of gifts, mostly stationery, hair ribbons, and craft kits. I turned 16 on a Sunday and wore a lime green gown my mother made to church that day, and stood as the congregation wished me a happy birthday (I think I turned “4” that day, too!) Of course when I turned 18 my friends took me out to a bar for a rum & coke, and in college we celebrated my 19th for a whole week by going to the town bar for pitchers of beer and pizza. For my 21st my friends gave me a surprise party at my apartment. Every year my family got together for a meal and cake around the time of my birthday, memories most dear now that my parents are gone and my brothers and I all busy with our lives. We do manage to remember each other’s birthday and make a phone call or send a card to wish happiness for the birthday honoree. Birthdays at work have always featured cake and gifts from co-workers, and every 4 years much joking about my ‘tender’ age, and generally a paper crown. My 50th was celebrated a few times, with my family, with my two very dear friends who I met because of Hillary, who took me into NYC for dinner and a show, and with some friends from my childhood with whom I had recently reconnected. Of course, for the past 30 years my husband has been the bringer of cake, and buys me dinner and a gift.

Regardless of who I celebrate with, or what gifts I receive, I always eat too much cake--so much that I feel like I have a cake hangover the following day. No matter, it’s nice for at least one day a year to be made to feel extra-special and appreciated. This year is no exception and I have some lovely memories from it.

Minefields

This time of the year is an emotional minefield. Back to school time and Hillary’s birthday. The stores are packed with cute outfits for an almost 19 year old to love, but I’m looking at the stretch pants, wondering if they’ll stretch enough to go up and over the diaper easily. I’m looking for t-shirts without a wide neck or scoop neck. I look in the misses department and find the styles suitable for her are in fabrics that are better suited for me. It’s simply the reality that we have, but it still cuts emotionally. It was easier when she was smaller to find appropriate clothing for her. She can still fit into a girls extra large, but it would look silly on her. I try to keep her relevant to her peers, giving her the dignity she deserves and the chance to blend in as much as possible. I don’t want her to be known as the girl who dresses funny. Recently I came across a company that makes waterproof clothing protectors that look like a shirtfront. I prefer these for school and outings instead of bibs. Again, her dignity is important.


Then there is the matter of Hillary’s birthday. One more emotional mine field for me. What do you get someone who can’t tell you what they want, and who’s hobbies include playing with her bead curtain, slinkys that never wear out, and a tether ball toy? New toys end up collecting dust, as she has no interest in them. CD’s perhaps, but honestly she seems just as happy with the radio as with a CD. Books on tape (or CD)? Maybe, but truly she seems as happy with the radio as with a recorded book. She enjoys the gifts all piled on her tray, brightly colored papers and gift bags all crinkly with tissue paper and ribbon. Her interest, however, wanes once the gift is out of the wrapping. Sometimes I’m not sure what I am giving the gift to her for, Hillary’s enjoyment, or my conscience? I don’t know what the answer is. I just know that occasions such as these unbalance me emotionally. I’ll still invite family and some friends over for a birthday party; we celebrate everyone’s birthday that way. Another year survived is certainly cause for celebration with cake and ice cream, music and laughter. I’ll take some goodies to her class at school so they can celebrate with her as well.
 I’ll get through this emotional minefield just as I do every year.
At some point in time I’ll learn how to deal with it a little bit better, I’m sure. For now though, I’ll muddle along through back to school and birthday shopping, and recover my equilibrium in time for the next minefield on the calendar--Christmas.