Yesterday was my mother's birthday. Her 69th birthday. She is 30 years older than me, so I am keenly aware of her age. This year, I didn't call her or send her a card. It was difficult for me to actively ignore her birthday.
With all the other years, I looked forward to celebrating her birthday in an ostentatious way. Last year, Ed and I took my mom and dad to Cirque Du Soleil with VIP tickets and Rouge tent access. I had been to Cirque at least six times and enjoyed every single perfermance but this one time topped all of the others combined.
We had cocktails and appetizers, special bathrooms, vip parking, bottled water passed out by models-- it was luxe. I thought that I had finally found something that she would have been happy about. The show was ethereal and dreamy. We didn't have to wait in line. We were treated like celebrities.
But all afternoon, all my mother could say was that it was a waste of money. She wouldn't crack a smile or say that she enjoyed herself. I was crestfallen. I wanted her to have a great time. She was stone faced, reserved and even looked bored. Unbelievable! I was annoyed by the end of the afternoon and felt like I maybe I had wasted my money. That evening, I felt like it was so hard to get through to my mom, to connect with her. I thought "Are we so different that we can't even appreciate a circus together?"
I went to bed crying a little, blaming myself for not knowing what I could give that would possibly make my mother happy. I haven't thought of anything, yet.
Happy birthday, Mom. I wish everything was different between us.
