The Self-Made Orphan

Stories of separating myself from my family of origin.

Happy Birthday, Mom.

The birthday card I wish could be true:

To The Best Mom in the World,

Happy birthday, Mom! 76! Wow! I am so grateful you have made it this far! My siblings and I are so lucky to have you around and, in our lives, and in our children’s lives. You look fabulous and are so vibrant and full of life. I love how you make time to take care of yourself and how you still make sure you do all of the fun things you love to do. I am so grateful for your health and your strength, and of course, for your delicious home cooked meals. I miss you so much and can’t wait to fly down there to celebrate your birthday with all of your friends and family who love and appreciate you so much. My daughter said she can’t wait to give her grandma a great big birthday hug. Happy birthday, Mom. We are so lucky to have you. In this new year of life, I wish you continued health, so much love and joy, and more adventures with me! I’ll keep the guest bedroom ready for you. Happy Birthday! 76 looks great on you! I love you!

It’s been 67 days since I’ve spoken to my mother and longer since I’ve spoken to my siblings. It feels like so much more time has passed than just the two months since I’ve blocked my mom. Her birthday was two days ago, and this is the first year that I have not called her, visited her, sent her gifts, or even acknowledged her birthday with her. Birthdays have always been complicated in my family, at least for me. They were always so dependent upon my mom’s mood. I do remember a couple of birthdays that were really bad as a kid, a teenager.

I anticipated feeling sad and guilty when her birthday arrived, but I didn’t. Not really, anyway. I felt sad around 9pm when the day had passed and I hadn’t interacted with her at all. I was able to acknowledge the sadness and move through it. I felt proud that I didn’t break my boundary, but I also felt sad for the consequence of maintaining my boundary. I keep picturing my mom being sad, all alone, and pitiful on her birthday. I wonder if any of her kids called her. I wonder if anyone at all wished her a happy birthday. She’s done such a good job of driving people out of her life that I would not be surprised if she spent this birthday all alone and without any visits or calls. My birthday is in two days and every year I would hyperfocus on whether or not my parents would remember it and call me to wish me a happy birthday. Every year. Some years they would remember, and they would call, sometimes early and sometimes late at night. Some years they would not remember and would not call. And then there was that one year where my dad called my brother to wish him a happy birthday, but on my birthday instead. The years my parents didn’t call me on my birthday, I always wondered if it was because they really didn’t remember or if my mom just wanted to be mean and make me feel unimportant. I supposed that doesn’t explain why my dad wouldn’t call, but my mom controlled him, so I guess that does make sense. I always landed on them simply forgetting, because after all, they are aging, but it’s hard to truly believe that, especially because my birthday is only four days after hers. Just four sleeps, four sunrises, four sunsets after hers. And then there are calendars. It just seems so easy to be able to keep track of dates, especially your kids’ birthdays, but then again, my mom’s life is chaotic. Her home is disorganized, she is disheveled, and her sleep schedule is like that of what I imagine an at home basement computer hacker’s sleep schedule is like. Well, this year I won’t be waiting for a phone call. I won’t spend my day wondering if my mom cares enough to give me a call to wish me a happy birthday. This year I won’t build myself up with anxiety and be upset if I don’t receive that call. This year I am making room on my day to feel whatever feelings come up. This year feels like a rebirth.