Sunday, September 7, 2008

Birthday thoughts

Today, September 7, I celebrate yet another birthday of mine (the years go by so quickly...too quickly), and once again my thoughts turn to my daughter, Marcy, who loved birthday celebrations. My eyes tear up and the same continuous though runs through my mind as it always does, “Her death was a waste, what a waste of a beautiful person.”

I remember she died the year she was planning a big surprise birthday party for my 50th. I was told after the accident. I know it would have been great. She was a great planner in all she did. And everything always had to be perfect in what she would do. Very much like her mother, a perfectionist.

She did give me one surprise birthday party when I was 36 years old, planning and executing it all herself. She was barely a teenager at the time. I remember having to act very surprised when I walked into the house, since one of my friends let it slip out accidentally. The house was decorated beautifully with balloons and birthday paraphernalia. She had baked her own cake, and of course, made sure everyone brought a card and little gift. I remember being surprised at the time that she knew exactly who to ask to the small party and how to make sure I was out of the house for the preparations. Even at that young age, she knew what to do.

Now, many years later, I still think of all the very cute cards she sent me each year. Most of them were very funny and clever. If she lived away from home, I always got a call. She also always made sure her dad bought me something. He used to laugh at how persistent she was that it had to be a special, thoughtful gift. She didn’t always succeed, since his thoughts always ran towards kitchenware items. (I didn’t have that much time to cook since I was teaching full time, so kitchenware was not my favorite. Maybe it was a hint!) She, in turn, always bought her own gift for me; she didn’t always like what her dad chose.

And if her dad wanted to give me a gift a few days early, it was absolutely forbidden by Marcy. “No,” she used to tell him. “The gift must be given on the exact date to be meaningful.”

I smile when I think of her legacy to me. I always make sure any gifts I give are done properly on the exact date. I try to choose a gift I know the person needs or wants, and I never, never buy kitchenware items!

Thanks, Marcy. You will always be by my side guiding me as I hope I always was for you. I know that somewhere up there you are still wishing me a happy birthday as I do every year for you. I miss you terribly, think of you every day and will continue to do so for the rest of my life.

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