You Say It's Your Birthday

It's my birthday too yeah.

Lest I grow too maudlin about my parents, let me tell you about my birthday. In fact, let me start with last year's birthday.

Dad was in the hospital because his blood pressure kept plummeting. He had not slept well since his first stint in the hospital last August and kept waking throughout the night. He was not quite in his right mind and when he woke up he felt like he needed to go to the bathroom. The trouble was, he still had a catheter. When he felt he needed to pee, he tried to pull out the catheter. So, there I was, standing over my dad in the middle of the night, trying to pull his hands away from his privates, when Dad looked over my shoulder at the clock and saw that it was after midnight. He said, "Oh, happy birthday, honey!" Oh my. That's a birthday wish to remember.

This year, Mom told Gayle that she wanted to be included in our birthday celebrations. Gayle told me and I told Dave and so Mom came over today after church to have lunch with us. Can I just say that direct meaningful conversation is not my family of origin's forte? My kids prepared and served a wonderful meal. Mom and I sat and visited while the preparations were being made.



I took the opportunity to tell her again who is planning to be available when she needs care. (Mom has been forgetting things and she has seemed confused about this, even asking about hiring someone.) Mom took the opportunity to tell me that this set of hand-me-down couches is the nicest we have ever had. "I mean at least they all match", she amended. Then we moved over to the table and she said, "I'm glad to see you've found some dining chairs that hold together." Yikes! Backhanded compliments, anyone?

After a lovely lunch of lasagne, garlic bread and salad, we moved over to the matching couches to open cards and presents. Very fun! But conspicuosly missing a card from my mom.

You know, as I type this out, it sounds really petty. I know Mom is occupied with the hard work of dying. I know life is not all about me. I'm not sure why her comments and lack of card bother me so much. Maybe I'm just being the baby. I guess I'll never stop looking for my parents' approval and longing for their unconditional love.