Birthdays are not always easy. Many people celebrate with parties or a fancy dinner. Some don’t celebrate at all. They have their reasons. Gordon’s reason was simple, religion. He was raised to never celebrate a birthday. That doesn’t mean he didn’t know when it was, just that he would never mention it to avoid those who would try to celebrate it anyway. While this was the norm for his family, his mother would normally say something. Birthdays are different for mothers. Mothers are celebrating the day that they welcomed a tiny person into the world. It’s hard to take that reminder of joy from a mother. In the years we lived separate from his family should would always call. After the call he would say something condescending about the call, something about her knowing it’s against their religion to celebrate birthdays. He never understood what his life meant to her. Maybe he didn’t understand how much he meant to anyone in his life.
So now that he is gone, what of his birthday? I am painfully reminded that I am 30 and he is not. He will always be 25. He will be 25 as I get older and my life continues to change. With those thoughts I feel survivor’s guilt. It doesn’t seem fair that some die young and others go on. The day of I felt fine, a small awareness of the day. Four days later I was a mess. I made myself sick with tears, I couldn’t think straight. I feel fine now, I didn’t know I could feel that way again.
Taking Things As They Come 