Ambivalent Birthdays

Most years I am ALL about a big bold birthday celebration.  Including getting all the free birthday items I can get my hands on. (The willingness to advertise pays off in these scenarios.) Some years, however, it just doesn't feel right to celebrate a birthday.  It's not the temperature of the room.   I felt this way the year Ellie died.  It felt ludicrous to celebrate another year when she wouldn't.  {Because my siblings are so incredible, a weekend trip was planned to NYC that year where we could do a joint birthday celebration (because our birthdays are on March 3rd, 6th, 8th, and 14th).}  

This year I had that same heavy feeling.  How could I actually celebrate another year, when so many will not get to?  Over 500,000 in the US alone.   I knew however, for the sake of my family, I needed to rally myself.  

So my birthday morning rolled around and I was doing my morning workout.  When suddenly, screaming erupted from upstairs.  Morning kerfuffles have really been THE thing lately.  I crossed my fingers as the screaming increased in frequency as well as pitch.  (Thom was submerged in the sound proofed basement, so he had no idea what was occurring above ground.)  Now, I have been a parent long enough to know that just because it is my birthday does not mean that there won't be high emotions.  There may even be higher emotions due to the expectations of the day.  Still, I was hopeful that perhaps the girls could work it out themselves.  They emerged downstairs still in the midst of the unrest.  Zibbi said something snide and Lotta began to sob.  I gave Lotta a hug.  A few minutes passed, Zibbi requested Lotta follow her to the back bathroom.  They emerged a few minutes later, tightly squeezing each other's shoulders.  

It was a gift to have a break from meditation.  Although, I know the true gift of another birthday is having the opportunity to live another year.  I know this.  Sometimes, the weight of all the loss makes even that prospect seem overwhelming.