happy birthday

my adopted mom's birthday was last month. i'm not too much into birthdays probably because accuracy of my birth date has been in question my whole life. of course i wish my friends and family 'happy birthday' but that's about it.

so, i called my adopted mother to wish her a happy birthday (which if you knew me is a HUGE thing - firstly because i remembered her birthday at all - i am quite terrible at remembering things like that - and secondly because, well, we don't really get along too well, so the idea of calling her is unsettling).

as soon as she answered the phone she went ON AND ON about what my (adopted) brother and sister did for her birthday. my sister drove 6 hours from alameda with her husband and son and helped set up her birthday present (a giant mac computer - a gift from her husband). my brother cooked dinner for her and her friends and family. and me, i just called...

the second i got off the phone, i broke down. angry at my adopted mother for trying to make me feel guilty for not making her birthday a production like my siblings did. angry that she was so fucking insensitive not to realize i might just have issues with helping (especially) her celebrate her very moment of birth. overwhelmed with a feeling of loneliness and resentment.

my birthdays are getting harder to celebrate every year. every year my husband insists on celebrating. every year friends insist on 'grabbing a drink'. and with each year that passes, my birth parents (if they are still alive) are also aging, one year closer to death. and i have one less year to find where and who i came from, one less year to find out my real birthday.

maybe after all i really do care about birthdays.