My Birthday Wishes

So I'm 'Edna sitting' while Joe is in Montana.

I love Edna and don't get to spend enough time with her, so I was looking forward to this few weeks when I had her 'all to myself'.

Edna's great.

She's a little fuzzy and a little wobbly but shit, she's just shy of 94 so what the hell?

Sure she's forgetting who her son is (on accounta that CAN'T be her son- that's an old man), and sometimes she thinks her little dog is a small boy who can't talk and who has no fingers but anyone can make mistakes, right?

Last month Edna started complaining about her eyes 'not behaving'. She was having trouble reading because she said her eyes kept jumping around'. So we went to the eye doctor. He checked her eyes and found nothing, so he ordered an MRI.

The MRI they took almost 2 weeks ago showed a large aneurysm that's pushing on her optic nerve, which would make her eye not behave, and also pressing on an artery that feeds blood to her brain, which may be why she's getting more confused rapidly.

How rapidly?

This morning I was going up the ramp to her porch and almost bumped into Edna coming down the ramp. She was dressed and ready to go.

"Where are you going, Edna?"

"Well, I'm going to work of course".

Of course.

The short story is that there are people coming into her house through the TV, bossing her around and then leaving through the walls. Sometimes the ceiling. This is vexing to her because she remembers us going to watch them build her little house and NOWHERE were there hollow panels for people to travel through. True enough.

I asked if she wants to go to work and she said NO.

I told her, she does not have to go to work, ever again, and why. That if those people come back she should tell them to go to hell. Which made her laugh, and she agreed.

She said, however, that she is 'leery' of being alone since they come in at night more than during the day.

So I'll be spending the night with Edna tonight and as long as it takes to ease her heart and poor fuddled mind.

Because no one should be afraid in their own home, no matter the reason.

I called for the THIRD time to see what the status was of the 'stat' appointment they were supposed to be setting with the neurologist...almost 2 weeks ago. I don't know if he can do anything about the aneurysm but we need to know our options. Edna needs to know her options.

While I was stressing and worrying about Edna, I skimmed over Facebook and saw this from one of my friends, writing about her 4 year old son-

"Every night Cash closes his eyes and wishes for a new morning. Then in the morning he yells that his wish came true."

Today is my birthday- my 54th.

I am reasonably healthy, and of a marginally sound mind.

I know my family, and cherish every moment with them- every moment remembered and every moment in the here and now.

I am always (sometimes painfully) aware when I lay my head down on the pillow at night that the day just past is gone forever, and there's one less day for me to live.

Today I remember. I remember all those who love me enough to wish me a happy birthday, and I love all those who love me but who will invariably forget when my birthday is.

Because it shouldn't matter. It doesn't matter.

My only birthday wishes are for security, love and happiness for everyone I love.

For the precious gifts of memory and clarity till my light is quenched and I am no longer.

And for a new morning.

A Card for Gomez

A birthday wish for my husband, Ward- my Knight in Shining Armor.

It's unbelievable to me that we've shared almost 18 birthdays with each other.

First as friends who cared for each other through the heartbreak of our divorces.

Then as friends who became lovers who realized the main pitfall of falling in love with your best friend is that when there are the (inevitable) lovers' spats the person you most need to run to for support and reassurance is the one you're off-kilter with.

Then as newlyweds embarking on a life together filled with hope...and our symbol of that hope and love, our son Alec.

We've seen birthdays filled with happiness and joy, and those filled with sickness and worry, but through them all- every one of them- we've never faltered, never ever made a birthday wish that didn't include each other.

Ward's first words upon waking this morning were, "Holy shit. Sixty fucking years old". And we laughed.

We've seen every birthday together since he was 42- when his hair was black and his beard just tinged with grey, and I was 34- about 25 pounds lighter and much less squishy.

Every morning for 18 years I've been able to wake up next to him has been a miracle- in all that time I can count on one hand the mornings we haven't woken up next to each other when he wasn't in the hospital.

It may be Ward's birthday, but the gifts have all been mine- his love, his courage, his never-wavering belief in me. That boy who looks so much like him and has his kindness of spirit and strength of character.

Happy Birthday, Gomez- I fell in love with you long before I admitted it to anyone (even myself). You've been melting my heart and warming my soul, sheltering me when I'm worn out and cheering me on when I'm strong, my island of sanity in a mostly self-made hurricane of Crazy that constantly swirls around me forever it seems.

My wish for you is peace and happiness now to infinity, and I'll spend every day of my life working to make it so.

My birthday gift to you is still and always, my love.



Sparky and Gomez.

It's My Birthday and I'll Think If I Want To

I admit it. I'm one of those ridiculous people who LOVE birthdays.

I know, I know- when you grow up you're supposed to either not make a big deal out of them, or actively deny their existence, but I've never been able to do that.

It's not even the Birthday Pageantry- the cake and cards and whatnot that cause me to hover with happiness just above the ground all day.

To me it's a yearly day of reckoning, sort of like other people see New Year's Day- what did I accomplish/survive and how close am I to where I thought I wanted to be by this stage of my life and yes, maybe just a little about what flavor the cake will be...

So I revisited my birthday post from last year and WOW have things changed in a year-

-we're in our home that was only a barely-forming mirage-like reality last August, it's here and now instead of just out of reach, and every day I still can't believe it.

-Ward is great and getting better than great every day- every night I go to sleep next to him and every morning I wake up next to him and every second is a gift and a treasure.

Today was gloriously normal. Got up, did chores, cleaned the guinea pig house, took showers, got into the car...and it was dead.

Joe came over and jumped the battery off of his truck and we went directly to Walmart because they told me over the phone "If you can get it here we can put a battery in it for you". We made it to Walmart (at 2:30) and left it in line at the auto center.

And waited. (3:30)

And waited. (4:30)

Finally they looked at it and...they didn't have the right battery. (5:15)

So we gingerly and fingers-crossedly drove it to AutoZone where they installed the correct battery promptly and for free and we got to dinner at 6:30 instead of 6- actually pretty good.

Actually pretty normal...for us.

Good food- Pho Vietnamese restaurant- tiny family owned, delicious. Spring rolls and sweet roasted pork over vermicelli with a big glass of iced jasmine tea.

Better company- "adopted sons" Jason and Ben, excellent dinner companions and the closest to siblings that Alec has with Dave in Wisconsin, Erika in Virginia and Jordan?

We very much missed son Jordan, who's still in Dubai (some kids'll do anything to get out of a family dinner).

Alec rode with Jason and Ben leaving us old folks to drive ourselves to dessert- Marble Slab Creamery...cinnamon ice cream milk shake, mmmm....

Joe fed the critters so we didn't have to hurry home or face feeding by flashlight.

I am 52 years old today. I have the home I've been dreaming of since I was five, a family who loves me unwaveringly in spite of myself, employers who appreciate and respect me, and friends literally all over the world.

Today was filled with the things and the people of my life- mostly not grand, or fancy or even stuff anyone would willingly want to have and do in their own lives (4 wheelbarrows of guinea pig poo while the thermometer read 105 as one example) but this life is mine, and today was one of a blessedly long string of days where nothing alarming or outstanding or life-changing happened.

See?

Routine, calm, ordinary, small yet surmountable annoyances...normal.

Something I'm still not used to, but I'm trying really really hard.

Every day I endeavor to embrace Utterly Normal and someday I hope to be able to do it without feeling completely Skeptically Awkward about it.

Think I can do it?

Me neither.