Birthdays- A Celebration of Sadness

 My eldest son had a birthday last week.  I spent the day in quiet reflection and fighting the sadness that always occurs with my estranged children's birthdays.  The sadness used to overwhelm me and consume my day. I no longer allow that to be the case, but the sadness does seep in.  It is difficult to recognize their birthdays without being able to participate in their celebrations.  I was accustomed to making certain my children felt very special on their birthdays.  It was a big deal.  I inevitably had warm and wonderful trips down memory lane, recalling their birth and the delight I felt.  I am working to be able to focus on those feelings on these days instead of the intense sadness and lonliness.  It is an ongoing endeavor.  It is not easy and does not come without my conscious decision to change the manner in which I handle these days.  It is a matter of survival.  No.  It is a move toward more than survival.  It is an attempt to live and to find joy in my life despite the absence of my children.  I do this without the guilt I used to feel in the earlier attempts.  I know that if I can assuage the guilt I used to feel when I found some joy in life that I can also overcome the crippling sadness of their birthdays.  It does not happen by itself though.  It takes a mindful decision on my part and the tenacity to continue the work.  It is a journey and one that I have only recently begun.  

There will be another birthday in November.  Perhaps that day will come a bit easier than this last one.  It is all I can hope for.  I pray that practice will dull the pain somewhat with each year and I will be a little less sad. 

 As my own birthday approaches, I fight the same battle.  It is heartbreaking to have your children ignore the day of your birth.  I resist the feelings of being unworthy, unlovable, and somehow deserving of this abandonment. I focus on who I believe I am and choose to celebrate with those around me who do care for me and love me.  But in honesty, at the end of the day as I quiet for sleep, the painful realization of having been fired creeps in and must be fought off.  Perhaps that too may fade with hard work and time.  

So happy birthday, my son.  I hope it was a special day and I hope that you felt loved.