I smell the smell. I can taste the sweetness with a hint of lemon-lime of the Sprite that I sipped that morning to take my daily anti nausea medication. I feel how tired I was and how I really wanted to hurry up and get back home so I could sleep some more. The lights, the denim skirt I wore, the laughter of my doctor, my friend. This is all like yesterday, like it happened only a moment ago. My birthday of sorts. The day I began riding a different carousel and one I will never get off. My free spirited penguin was born on this day, one week earlier than planned, six years ago.
Today is her birthday. The day that God decided to break out the mold he used in 1978, dust it off, and give it another go when he gave me this unending gift six years ago. There is no doubt we not only share DNA, but most would agree that we are the same, I in adult form can see my childhood self daily when I look at her. I am raising myself. That, in itself is a gift.
Today is my birthday. The day that I was born into a new life, a new person. I became more than just a sole person, more than a wife, more than a daughter. I became a mother to the best thing ever. There are days that I could lay down and scream, and yes, some days I feel I’ve lost myself, but then I can remember that smell, that taste, all of the details of today six years ago. My heart becomes overwhelmed with awe and I am humbled that I was chosen. Chosen to be her mother. What a gift!
Happy Birthday my sweet penguin. My love, the beating of my heart that you dance to. My birthday wish is that you always feel that wind that leads you to dance freely.
I wrote my first post of the month, That Bull was much more fun than the one I’ve been riding, with much reflection on the month of November. If you’ve read that post you would know despite the month being a great month because I came into this world, it also has held some pretty dark memories too.
It’s ironic? Maybe that’s the right word. There are birthdays I’ll never forget. And now there are birthdays that I’ve blocked out.
My sweet Sixteen was a quaint celebration with my closest friends over chili and checkered table cloths. My 18th was a complete surprise at the catering company/restaurant I worked at. My 21st was in Augusta with a group of friends I barely knew but would become family over the next two years. I definitely remember my 32nd. I had recently given birth to the best thing ever.
My 29th I’ve blocked out. My now ex-husband finally decided he wanted a divorce around that time and it’s all been buried somewhere. My 35th isn’t completely forgotten because it was pretty fun, however it is shadowed with my husband’s job loss. We are now at 37. Wow! I’m pretty sure it will get buried.
What started off as a normal day ended in a jaw dropping turn of events. My husband of course is not home. But I’m used to that. A dear family pet as been struggling for awhile with first, the loss of our pug, and then the life change when her master, my husband, left for the road. Tuesday, my birthday, was her most difficult day. In actuality she suffered “minor” physical injuries that were treated with surgery easily. However, it’s the mental anguish that I worry about and what I came home to that will leave this birthday buried.
She cut herself. My house looked like a murder scene from a horror movie. Something from The Walking Dead. From one end of the house to the other. Blood. Splatter. Walls. Baseboards. Windows. Counters. Tables. Furniture. Doors. The floor was covered all throughout. The computer was knocked over. My daughter’s bathroom looked like the shower scene from Psycho. It took 2 days to clean.
My husband has no idea. He is in complete denial. If not for my parents I honestly don’t know what I would have done. I want to shake him.
**The dog is fine. She is in the care of a vet. We are working on re homing her. Please no comments or suggestions on what I can do…..I’ve done everything I can!!! The vet says the dog needs more human interaction than what I can give with my work schedule***