The (Sad) Elephant in the Room

It's my birthday today. For me, I'm not another year older; I'm another year closer to dying of old age so that I can reunite with Charley.
It wasn't until three weeks ago that I realized my birthday was coming up only because my husband pointed it out. Oh yeah. My birthday. Grrrrrreat. I could not avoid it, but I could ignore it and any offers and encouragement to celebrate it. I had anxiety all week. Agitation began in my thoughts and was expressed through solace and the refusal to acknowledge all things party, food, cheer or gifts. I wanted nothing to do with today. Call me a brat or call me stubborn. Shit, tell me that you want nothing to do with this party I call sad, but don't tell me that I should turn the happy switch on because it's my birthday, afterall. As though it's simple for my heart to go from unhappy to heck yeah, it's my birthday! ...and I'll cry if I want to. I'm authentic. I don't pretend, there's no facade, there's no mask to make everyone else to feel better about me...because I'm okay with me and myself. I understand that my sadness is infinite and will face it head on, through and through and embrace it.
You don't think I've tried to celebrate my brother and his life rather than mourn him and his pain? I HAVE TRIED. And all I feel is more sadness because that life I'm celebrating and his cause, is gone.

I am not discounting the undeniable support and love I received today (and everyday). I am not taking away from the happiness people who love me, want for me. It's not as though a gesture of Here Yolie, here's something to help you want to feel happy, is being taken for granted. No, I reach past the texture of pain and prick it to feel the ooze of gratitude soak me with its healing touch. I am thankful. I am simply not alive enough to feel much of anything besides the band aids of aide and open-wounds.

My day began pretty easily with a morning hug from my husband and a soothing look that said Happy Birthday without the words or the customary song. I was relieved for that. I could've gone all day with just that subtle gesture. Work day came and went with just a couple hugs and nothing more. That was great. Late afternoon hit when Charley's very close friend surprised me with a surprise spa visit and the incentive to rest. I was elated. I could rest! I did my best to meditate but all I did was think about Charley. Evening fell as the beach breeze kicked into high gear and the street lamps came on. We walked down the road to meet my family for dinner. All went well. A mini candle for Mia to blow out and I held my breath and counted to five. Inhale....e-x-h-a-l-e. After-dinner coffee at my parents and that's when I felt the anxiety attack coming on. Birthday cake was placed before me, Happy Birthday was sung in a very slow, quiet-like melody and then, my choking tears came flooding out over the glow of a single candle. The elephant in the room finally shouted its demise and all I could feel was lonely for my brother. Lonely for his silly dance moves, lonely for his smile and dimples, lonely for his presence, lonely for the soul who isn't here with me to say, "Happy Birthday, sis". All I want for my birthday is to see Charley walk through the front door, walk over to me and hug me so tightly that my broken heart will immediately mend and breathe a sigh of "finally".