I Never Will

I don’t expect you to remember what Friday is.  You didn’t last year and while it made me sad, it made me grateful. Grateful that for 32 years you did remember.  That you made it a special day that was all about me.  For probably fifteen of those years you made me a homemade spaghetti dinner with extra garlic bread (my favorite part) and a homemade cake with ice cream.  Probably twelve of those years we joked as a family about how that year would be the year you would not be making spaghetti but instead hot dogs.  Everyone in the free world knows how I loathe hot dogs, but for some reason, we still thought it was funny.  Or rather, you, Mike and Dad thought it was funny.  You were always the first one there to greet me in the morning and you liked to remember the day I was born.  I get it now.

I think it was my 13th or 14th birthday that I asked if I could spend it at someone else’s house.  I wanted to go roller skating with my friends.  Her mom even made me spaghetti for dinner and a homemade cake.  You let me. I can’t imagine that you really wanted someone else to make me that dinner or that you really wanted me spending a good part of that day with someone else, but you let me.  I’m so sorry.

You might be forgetting, but I never will.   I never will.

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  1. bittersweet.

  2. michelle

     /  January 13, 2011

    i’m all choked up. Hugs.

  3. Happy almost birthday.

    I’ve got to believe that somewhere deep inside, even though it might not make it to her waking thoughts, she remembers. 🙂

  4. Sassafrass

     /  January 13, 2011

    Good lord you should put a pregnancy warning on this post…I am all wet eyes over here and trying to hold back the tears. It must be so hard.

  5. Oh, I love this. So beautiful and bittersweet. Happy, happy birthday, kiddo. xoxoxox


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