Birthday Drinks…
[This is poorly written. I can do better...but not right now. I stand by the illustration though.]
It’s Laura’s birthday today. She would have been 42. It’s the first time we “celebrated” it without her. It was strange…and sad…and just another day all rolled into one. I’m not even sure how to describe it so I’ll leave it at that.
I felt like I wanted to recognize her in a small way…knowing there were other people who knew her and missed her and thought about her not being here. I had no idea what to do because I didn’t want to make a spectacle of the day. (Plus I’m a guy which means I’m not a very good planner.)
I came home early from work and brought vanilla shakes and fries for the kids. It was short and sweet and we all had a chance to talk about mom and some of the funny things she did. It was nice and simple. Laura would have approved.
From Russia With Love.
I wanted to be with her friends as well. Not long…just a small get together on a random Monday night. I haven’t really figured out how to call someone and say, “Hi. I’m feeling out of sorts because it’s Laura’s birthday and she’s not here. Would you mind if I came over so I can get through this a little better?” Actually that’s pretty good excuse to do something like that…but I didn’t realize it until just now.
Instead I sat down and let my mind wander. For no particular reason it drifted to an unopened bottle of vodka that we bought 4 years ago on a trip to Russia. (Beautiful place. I’d recommend it.) We never opened it because we were saving it for a special occasion. (We had an unspoken agreement that “special” meant “happy.”) Of course we never did have that happy occasion…so it’s been sitting on the shelf patiently waiting for the right time to bring back a memory. Today was that day.
Epiphany Revisited.
I called our friends and asked if it would be a good time to bring something over in memory of Laura’s birthday. Of course they agreed so I walked down the hill to their house and explained that our bottle of vodka was meant to be shared on this day…with her friends…whom she loved so much.
We drank…we talked…I shared some of the sadder moments of this life after death and we toasted her and what she left us with. Somewhere in there they mentioned that this little meeting was a testament to the fact that life is indeed short…and the dream trip they were considering was in fact something they MUST do.
I agreed…and we talked more about the wisdom of not putting off those once-in-a-lifetime experiences. And that’s when the same epiphany hit me for the 100,000th time. ”Ya’ know,” I said, “that trip may be great…but nothing beats what we’re doing right here, right now. We are sharing a memory in your kitchen on a random Monday night. These are the things that make our lives.”
And so it is. It’s been said a thousand different ways a ka-billion different times. It’s not the big moments that make our lives…but the little ones…all piled on top of one another. To be in the small moments on our way to the “big” ones…good or bad…is to honor every one of the :30 seconds we have coming to us. We honored a life tonight…and for a brief moment…it was our own. Happy Birthday, Laura…and thank you.
Oh Andy, my heart just goes out to you and your family at moments like these, although I know there are also many more quiet moments and anniverseraries of the heart that we don’t know about too. Thinking of you…Marie
.-= Marie´s last blog ..Reconnecting with aliveness =-.
It’s OK, Marie. We get through and it’s cool that you recognize there are “many more quiet moments and anniversaries of the heart that we don’t know about.” That’s true isn’t it? For all of us. As usual thank you, Marie. How great you are…
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR LAURA…HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU. The daffodils are up in honor of Laura and will ALWAYS remind me of her. Andy, thanks again for reminding us to celebrate each and every 30 seconds…Karen
Oh me too, Karen! I’ll never forget the time just after diagnosis that we took a walk with the kids and had pictures taken with them. Thanks for reminding me of that.
Andy it sounds as though you celebrated Laura perfectly.
You are right, all the little moments should be recognized, they are what make up our lives, and the ones we will remember most in the end.
Thank you for sharing your moments.
Mary
hi andy…wow, i can’t believe you are just celebrating laura’s first birthday. what i mean is…you have done so much obviously since her death. my husband died last july and his birthday was in oct. two of my three kids and i were together so we prepared food/snacks and had a “celebration” my sister in laws had all given me cards for michael’s birthday and we read those out loud together. they along with my daughter and son gave me gifts since they could not give gifts to michael.another one of my sister in laws wrote something on all the gifts michael had given to her in his lifetime. that was really cool. we also did a “phone toast” to michael with his sister in chicago. it was so hard to face the fact that he was not there to celebrate with us. i admire you for reaching out to the world with your grief. i feel like i need to share my grief with the world also. it is a part of life that we are not going to get out of yet we are never taught how to deal with it. thank you for sharing your life!
Sounds like you handled his birthday perfectly, Alaine. And yes…if you’re comfortable…share your grief with the world. I try not to bring people down too much…but there are times I just need to sit down and let it spill. A blog is a good thing. A journal is a good thing as well if you don’t feel like opening everything up to the world. I don’t know…if you can find some lessons it’ll help you in the process. At least that’s what is working for me. (And people. There are insanely kind people out there…)
Andy – what a great entry. I shared it with my husband (the ultimate couch potato as of late), both for the sentimental comments and for the get-into-life-and-do-something-NOW factor. I’ll let you know if that works out
I don’t know if it’s possible to toast someone the next morning, but I DID have a Citron-rocks last night. So, here’s to Laura: a strong woman I only met once, but through the continued love of her husband, and the inspiring way he influences us through his insightful writings, I learn from her in so many ways that affect the way I look at others and at life. Cheers, Laura. Cheers, Andy (I did have two…)
Thanks and peace.
That is a nice toast, Diane. Perfect really. It is so true that these writings are a product of the things I learned by living with Laura and the crazy tail spin that followed diagnosis and now her loss. Just trying to get my compass to point north again…and this helps. I’m glad it does something for you in the process. (And maybe that couch potato husband
Though I DO watch Family Guy…so TV isn’t all bad…)
I’ve wanted to go to Africa my entire life, work with the poor, make a difference. For many reasons, excuses, it hasn’t happened yet. It may happen this year, it may happen next, it may not happen at all. And this year I realized if I died tomorrow I would not have any regrets about not getting to Africa. Because this year I have learned to live and love where I am, what my life is. This year my kids needed me more, my work needed me more, my health needed me more.
If I died tomorrow and realized I did not show those that I love that I am here for them and I love them, that I would regret. If I died tomorrow and my kids felt neglected while I was here, that I would regret. If I died tomorrow and I had not given my love and assistance to my family and friends, that I would regret. Working with poverty is still a priority, so I choose to help the villagers from afar. I am needed more here for now.
As you state Andy, it is not the big things that make our life, it is the small moments, how we celebrate, how we treat others, how we handle what life brings our way, both the rewards and the challenges. That is what makes all the difference. Thanks Andy. Beautiful. Love to you and your family.
And thank you…again…Meg! I think you nailed it. So great…
I always try to remember the birthdays of my long gone relatives and friends, and they come and go… eventually, years pass, and nothing happens on those days anymore, so you can’t keep track of them all; that’s the time to write them down. Lauras birthday however, you will remember well for a long time to come; keep a birthday book. make sure your kids write a page, a story every year. It will get harder and harder, but the longer you can push yourself to do it, the more alive she will be to you in the later years. A little vodka can loosen it up too I assume. Nuthin wrong with that!
Aren’t we a wonderful lot as make the birth of someone a celebration, yet we turn the death of that person into a time of mourning. Perhaps it is the focus on ourselves that brings us momentary confort. The birth brings into our world a dependant creature who is carved into a masterpiece. When death places that masterpiece out of our reach, we mourn that there will be no more. How greedy I have been to fail to celebrate both events. I will make this day a party by involving others in serving the needs of others who are still being carved into a masterpiece. I think I’ll even call it Sharon’s Day of Caring. It is an extension of her living in my actions. Thanks Andy for revealing the dark side of grief has a light switch to brighten each day and we control that circuit.
Wes man that is awesome. We DO control the circuit, don’t we? Thanks for pointing that out in such simple terms. Please let me know how your Sharon’s Day of Caring turns out. Bittersweet…