birthday

Birthday – Day 641

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Blueberry-lemon birthday cake – Photo: L. Weikel

Birthday

Some of you may have caught on to the deeper meaning when I wished you a “Happy 13th of August” last night. In spite of the foundation upon which all of my posts are founded (my 1111 Devotion), I try not to be too maudlin about the life (and death) of my eldest son, Karl Daniel. But whether I mention it or not, August 13th will always be the anniversary of his birthday.

Every year is a little bit different. And it doesn’t progress in a linear fashion, believe me. If it did, I’d be breathing a sigh of relief, knowing that every single year would bring me just that little bit less sadness, just a slightly diminished tendency to wonder what his life would be like now, who he’d be, what he’d be doing in the world right now.

But life isn’t like that. Death isn’t like that. When it first hits you, especially as a parent enduring that freaking nightmare of losing a child (regardless of whether they’re 3 months, 3 years, or 30 years when they die) most of us feel we might very well lose our minds before ever coming to terms with the reality of losing our baby forever.

For most of us, though, the searing pain at first loss that we feel will never ease, never diminish (indeed, that we vow we’ll never let go of – for to lose that edge will somehow, we feel, lessen the importance of their life to both us and to the world) inexplicably does. And honestly, at least for me, it was involuntary. I did not want to lose that edge.

Life Goes On

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I wanted to wear that loss on my vest and claim it as a defining, debilitating, characteristic of my life. The exact opposite, as a matter of fact. I wanted the gaping hole in my heart that belongs to my eldest son to spur me on to helping others cope with their grief when faced with similar loss.

So as we’re told in lyrics and poems, life goes on. We rail against it, when the loss is fresh. We secretly damn the people who tell us ‘time heals all wounds’ – most of the ones who say that have never felt the sense of having a phantom limb haunting us that losing one of our children creates. They think losing a parent is the same thing.

It’s not.

They think losing a sibling is the same thing.

It’s not.

Forgiveness

But ultimately, we have to extend to the people around us the most exquisite (and sometimes hardest to come by) gift: forgiveness. Most are doing the best they can to comfort us at a time when we’re experiencing something that simply blows their minds. And at the same time, it’s incumbent upon us to extend that same olive branch of forgiveness to our very own selves.

Yes, eventually – even if we try really hard to keep it at the forefront and make our lives center around it – the nearly unbearable pain of losing our child will eventually withdraw into the background of our lives. It’s at once surprising, unsettling, sad, and a relief. And a little guilt-inducing as well.

If we really loved them, would we ever allow ourselves to lose that edge? It’s a question that has a hollow and unsatisfactory answer.

My Point

The point I started to make when I began this post was that you just never know when the grief is going to sneak up behind you and clobber you over the head.

Upon waking this morning I felt a genuine heaviness around my heart. I’d sensed Karl ‘around’ a couple days earlier, but didn’t particularly feel him today. When I did notice him a few days ago, it made me realize that his ‘visits,’ if you can even call them that, are much more infrequent nowadays. And while I can appreciate that this happens, and why, it nevertheless makes me sad.

So I decided to bake a cake. What the heck. For 30 years I’d made a point of baking (or procuring) two cakes within the span of one week, since his father’s birthday is only four days before my son’s.

Only this time I decided to make something totally different. A vanilla cake. (I’ve never made one of those before. Not even once!) And it would have blueberries and lemon going on to make it special and festive. I rationalized that this would be the type of cake I’d buy at my favorite bakery, Crossroads, and almost certainly did for not a few birthdays over the years.

So here it is. The fruit of my reminiscing about my son and celebrating what should have been his 39th birthday today.

Never assume that just because it’s been a bunch of years since the loss of a child that their memory and how much they are missed has diminished.

Looks sloppy, but tastes yummy – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-470)

Themes and Messages – Day 504

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I am loved – Photo: L. Weikel

Themes and Messages

I should’ve started writing this post on themes and messages earlier. It’s getting late and I’ve been a total hog this weekend, indulging in sushi (yes, Karl does know my weakness – witness his Valentine’s Day ‘score’ this year, too) and two – two! – birthday cakes.

Last night I baked myself one of ‘Carol’s chocolate cakes,’ so Karl and I could celebrate all weekend. You know. Be totally decadent and use my birthday to justify the massive stress eating we’ve been engaging in lately. <<Ahem>> As you can see from the photo below, someone very neatly ‘edged’ along the entire width of the cake tonight with her fork. I think it looks decorative.

Carol’s Chocolate Cake – neatly ‘edged’ – Photo: L. Weikel

I couldn’t help it.

But to make matters exponentially worse (not a good word to use, come to think of it) – lo and behold! – my d-i-l Tiffany baked and delivered to me this gorgeous and delectable berry torte with whipped cream and cream cheese icing!

Oh my goodness…take a look at that baby. Tell me you don’t gain five pounds just by looking at it.

All of which is to say that I’m sitting here on the couch in a semi-stupor.

Tiffany’s Berry Birthday Torte – Photo: T.Dollar

Last Year/This Year

There are two sets of pretty interesting themes and messages that I noted last year on my birthday – both of which I want to reflect upon. But if I’m honest, I fear the sugar and fat coursing through my system at this point is not conducive to me writing anything even remotely coherent.

So I will ‘set up’ the stories, if you will, and promise to flesh them out for you in future posts.

Living Breathing Messengers

Both last year and this year, oddly, I was pulled from my slumber by two different types of birds. Last year, a pileated woodpecker literally hammered its way into my dreams until I awakened and saw it clinging to the bark of the maple tree just outside my bedroom window. What a sight that was! They dwarf most of the other birds that hang out around (or swoop through) our yard.

This year it was a completely different bird – but one that seems to have been ‘stalking’ me for a couple weeks now. The fact that I’d noticed this bird had left me a good handful of feathers from all different points along our walks over the past few weeks, flown across my path a number of times, and simply made itself quite obvious, I had to smile as I lay in bed this morning, my consciousness rising up from the depths, when I realized the insistent voice I kept hearing was this very same bird.

Mind you: for weeks, I’ve noticed it and thought solely of the one snippet of knowledge I have about the ‘message’ of this bird. I kept telling myself I needed to look it up, but never seemed to get around to it. I was also dismissing that it was really showing up for me, talking myself out of the mystical sense I was feeling when I kept finding its feathers, and telling myself that these birds have always been in our vicinity (which is true). I used that fact to actively attempt to deny that there was anything ‘special’ about their appearance this year.

Medicine Card Messengers

The other comparison I wanted to make, which if I type fast I may be able to spit out and thus not belabor were my Medicine Card* ‘picks’ on my birthday last year and now this.

I had to look up what I chose on my birthday last year. Luckily I write them down every morning when Karl and I sit, have our coffee, choose our cards for the day.

Last year I chose Dog/Lizard. Dog’s primary message is all about loyalty. Loyalty to ourselves, loyalty to others – and loyalty that’s shown (or not) to us by others.

When I looked that up just moments ago, I had to tip my hat to Spirit. Without question, the lessons I learned about loyalty and how it played out in my life were the biggest, most difficult, challenging, hurtful, and enlightening ones of my entire year. I certainly didn’t see them coming – at least not from the direction they came – and as they unfolded, their very nature was so surreal that the whole situation felt like a very bad dream.

This year’s pick, today’s cards, were Armadillo/Snake.

Given everything that’s going on all around us, from the pandemic to the personal, these cards feel like an amazingly perfect selection as a theme for my personal year. The need to cultivate my skills in setting and defining boundaries – both to give myself space and to protect myself – and shedding a number of things (beliefs, roles, relationships), including perhaps the outer identity I’ve had for some time, in order to reveal a new aspect of myself and my path.

Intriguing.

*affiliate link

(T-607)

Coronavirus Equinox Birthday – Day 494

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Anonymous Representative of Coronavirus Birthday Celebrants Everywhere

Coronavirus Equinox Birthday

Coronavirus Equinox Birthday. Well, there’s a mouthful for you. What a day.

I gave birth to a certain someone 32 years ago today. Alas, the 19thof March was not the spring equinox that year, which definitely would’ve made the day even more sacred than it already his arrival certainly made it for me. But on the upside, there wasn’t a pandemic stampeding across the globe, with nary a facemask or bottle of hand sanitizer in sight.

Festivity Buzzkill

I have to say, this social distancing, and in some cases social isolation, is a festivity buzzkill. All in service to the preservation of mankind, though, which I totally support and appreciate.

However – and Karl will back me up on this I’m sure – we need to implement new rules with respect to pandemic birthdays. Why? Because when we’re forced to forego actually being together and celebrating as a family, somebody always ends up a LOSER.

Since we live fairly close to each other, we’ve frequently had the chance to celebrate birthdays with the “CVEB-Boy” as the years have gone by. All – every single one –has involved a sharing of cake (unless one or the other of us was out of town or otherwise indisposed).

All have involved birthday cake, most often of the Aunt Carol’s Cake variety.

This time, though, because of our adherence to the CDC and Commonwealth of Pennsylvania’s Guidance on maintaining social distancing, we found ourselves in a particularly difficult spot.

The Police song “Don’t Stand So Close to Me” kept repeating in a never-ending loop in my head, while my tastebuds yearned to be rewarded for my efforts not only in birthing a 9 lb. 4 oz. baby 32 years ago but also in baking a chocolate cake in the midst of a pandemic.

I risked my life buying butter and powdered sugar for that icing.

Proof of Love

You’ve heard the expression, “proof of life,” in kidnap situations? Well, I feel like I delivered proof of love instead.

This is what I delivered to the doorstep of my middle son this afternoon. In the midst of a pandemic.

Coronavirus Birthday Treats – Photo: L. Weikel

So, you tell me. (And yes, that’s three flavors of Owowcow ice cream, too). Even in the midst of a pandemic, when the meme above is (sadly but hilariously) representative of all  those celebrating birthdays around the world in these troubled times, I think we can all agree on one thing: this guy (my guy) scored. Big time.

Especially since he didn’t have to share any of it with us!

I hope you had a great birthday, Middle Son. Your personal anniversary, on the equinox no less, is especially precious this year. I hope we’ll be able to share the treats next year. In person.

(T-617)