I've got this thing for the number
15. It seems like big things, bad and good, happen for me on the 15th. I broke
up with my long-term boyfriend on a 15th (of February. I'm a jerk), I moved
into my first apartment on a 15th, passed the test that gave me my current
job on a 15th and my anniversary with TB is on the 15th.
I remember thinking to myself last year that 2015 was going to be insane. It
just had to be. Superstition was on my side. I mean, 2014 had been an effing
rollercoaster ride. More travel in one year than I’d done in my whole life,
landing a job I wanted, cool responsibilities at work, and, of course, more
loss than I could fathom.
Imagine my surprise, then, that
2015 has been one long flatline of mostly even-keeled quiet. No travel outside
the country, no big changes on the job front, just a lot of keeping my head
above water and trying to go through the motions of everyday normal. Whoo!!
I had wondered if I should even do
anything for my birthday – having a birthday on a holiday always leaves the
question of a party up in the air – but once I heard my best pal Jax was in
town for the first time in probably 7 years I knew I had to do something.
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| Sparkler fights: fun and inadvisable |
Two years ago my birthday was, by
far, the best party I’d ever thrown. 30-40 people showed up, there was chaos
and trays of drinks set on fire and our brand new dog was scared shitless (just
kidding, she’s never shitless) by the revelers and their propensity toward
picking her up like a baby.
This year’s fete was a lot
smaller- a more manageable 15-20 people- and a lot less work. We decided to
have a barbecue, get some beer and then let off some fireworks and sparklers in
the backyard.
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| Proof. (pun cheerfully intended) |
Confession: TB barbecued, bought
the beer and then let off fireworks. I put on a tshirt and made jello shots.
It was actually pretty great. I
had two friends from miles away come out, at one point there were three dogs in
my house – two pugs and a boston terrier – so you know I was into that, and
everyone seemed to have fun. We let off the fireworks in our (very close to
power lines, very urban) backyard and didn’t know we had an audience until tiny
voices began chanting “We want fireworks! We want fireworks!” and we realized
there was a trio of pint-sized piros watching from our neighbour’s balcony. So,
you know, at least they weren’t going to rat us out to Bylaw.
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| Pepper pug is as much fun as she looks |
People went their separate ways
around 9:30 or so (my birthday fell on a Wednesday this year so the bureaucrats
turned into pumpkins) and then we headed down to watch the professionals do their
explody colour magic. We ended the night with Jax, TB, my sister and I playing “Cards
Against Humanity” where I found a brand new favourite card!
And yeah, I missed her. I missed
her when my dad’s name was the only one written on my card, and when her alto
voice didn’t match his bass singing me happy birthday over the phone. I missed
her wearing her traditional red and white outfit (complete with socks) and I
missed the ease with which she’d pick out a great birthday gift (my dad, on the
other hand kept wringing his hands until he panicked and bought some random chez
lounge. My sister set him straight and I got an awesome zero gravity chair for
the backyard instead.) This will be the first year of my life without her and
the first birthday of mine she’s ever missed. But, like mother’s day and easter
before it, my birthday was still good. Different, and maybe more reflective,
but still good.
I remember a moment, when we were
outside and the fireworks were blasting and we were shrieking and drinking and
laughing and I just thought “I am happy.” It seems impossible that I’d get to
that point again, and it was fleeting, but it was there. It is possible. Happy
Birthday to me.
