Normally, I would receive a phone call early in the morning on May 18th.
It would be my Daddy, wishing me a Happy Birthday.
I turn 43 years old today.
I was born on May 18, 1964.
I will never, ever, get that phone call again.
What was once a day of celebration, is now, another reason to grieve.
There are six birthdays in May, in my family: My bro(3rd), my Aunt(5th), my SIL(9th), my Son(14th), Me(18th), and Mom(29th). Add in Mothers Day and Dad's partner's son (4th) and it was like Christmas in May, with all the gifts.
Not anymore though.