Today is your birthday, I wanted to drop the kids off at school and daycare then go to the florist and to the cemetery to see you- I haven’t been in months (as I’m sure you’ve noticed).
I wanted to go to counseling, I haven’t been since before Iceland, and with it being your birthday and all…I felt like I needed to go.
I had plans with your mother and brother to go to Japanese food for dinner, since it’s your birthday and Japanese food is-….was…your favorite.
But instead I awoke to find our toddler in our-…my…bed, with a red splotchy rash all over her face. I did not go to the florist or cemetery. I did not go to counseling. No, instead I sat in the Emergency Room with our daughter for four hours while you fucked off in the afterlife.
Happy fuckin birthday, you bastard I thought this morning as I flipped off your memorial shelf, that just the other day, I spent thoughtfully dusting and rearranging (isn’t grief fun?!)
Instead your mother brought me Japanese food, and cuddled our highly contagious daughter- just so I could have a hot meal (which had you not died, would be YOUR job)
We laughed so hard both of us nearly spit out of food, or had our drinks come out of our noses.
We sat together with the kids and I presented red velvet cupcakes- your favorite. I put a lone white and blue polka dot candle in a cupcake, chosen by our son, and lit the candle.
Luke asked “Are we singing ‘Happy Birthday’?”
“Would you like to?” I replied.
“Mm…no” Luke said.
“Okay, they how about you make a wish and blow out the candle,”
“Okay!” Luke said, all too excited to be getting not one- but TWO birthday wishes in one year.
He squeezed his eyes tight and thought hard for a few moments, then blew out the candle.
I wonder what he wished for.
A video game?
A new dad?
I’ll never know.
There’s a wistful hope in the magic of a child’s birthday wish.
I hope he gets what he wished for…
Your very angry and bitter (yet still loving)