it’s coming. that day i dread. it comes once a year, and i hate it. it is always disappointing. it’s always a let-down. it always ends in tears.
it’s my birthday. next thursday, the 15th.
i haven’t had a birthday party since i was a little boy. when i went to boarding school, we couldn’t exactly have a party. my birthday typically fell over spring break, where i’d be skiing in colorado with my family. and while that was cool, it wasn’t for my birthday. my family would have been skiing then anyhow. sure we’d go out to dinner to have a special birthday dinner, but it wasn’t any different than another dinner we had while we were there, save a “happy birthday” song and a stupid little cake from the servers.
in college, i didn’t even celebrate my birthdays. i didn’t want to be around my family, and celebrating my birthday was always a reminder of how disappointing my birthdays (or any family event for that matter) has never failed to depress or disappoint. sure i get a nice dinner every year and presents. sure everyone wishes me a happy birthday and gets me cards.
but no one means it. it’s as empty as a desert landscape. sure there’s a billboard or two, but they’re worn by the sand and the wind, faded over time, and completely two-dimensional. i will take this time to document exactly how my family completely ruins my birthday every year.
my father wishes me happy birthday because he’s supposed to and doesn’t really know what else to do. he hopes things go well during the dinner he treats me and my brothers to, and i’m pleased and contented with a dinner. it’s a nice gesture, but as unsatisfying as the really impersonal birthday card containing an Affection I.O.U. (aka a $500 check). seriously. this is the kind of man from whom those cheesy “coupons” for hugs would have been of real value. too bad he was the only one to never issue nor redeem such a thing. i guess going out and getting me a thoughtful gift is really just too hard for some people.
my mother, when she’s not perched on a pedestal, hanging from a cross, riding a high horse, or some other symbol of her self-rightousness, she’s overcompensating for my father’s heart of stone. and while i appreciate the effort, it completely invalidates any affection or concern she may actually have. it comes off as desperately not genuine. sometimes she will try to get me a gift, but with every attempt, she only proves how much she doesn’t know me and probably never will.
my next-youngest brother rory cares about nothing other than himself or what might affect him. ever. sure he’ll act all happy to be there (as he’s always happy at an opportunity to dine out), and may actually have a genuine wish that i have a happy birthday, but that’s where it ends. he’d feel the same way for a random stranger.
my youngest brother, alex, typically genuinely wishes that i have a happy birthday, but, through his actions and words, obviously won’t let that get in the way of his happiness. as soon as conversation goes beyond “hi, how’ve you been?” it all goes wrong. it’s different every year, but it’s always bad. this year, it will be that awful fiancee of his along with her daughter. just having them there will ruin everything. plus he’s a prick.
my friends, on the other hand, actually care. they come though for me to varying degrees.
eric will go all the way and get me a cad and a little gift, for which i am always grateful. since he’s the only one who gets me something for reasons other than obligation, it’s the only gift ever worth mentioning. last year, he got me this awesome martini set.
bridget and angel also go all the way, in their own way. like me, their means are limited. still, they go beyond just to make a friend have a happy birthday. they get me a card and give me all sorts of attention. i love them!
but the point is that nobody really celebrates my birthday. i get some cards, a very uncomfortable family dinner (sans mom), another with mom, but sans dad, and a couple of checks.
i don’t want money or presents, though. i don’t want pretentious dinners with acerbic family members. i just want someone to actually be happy that i’ve been around for another year, to be happy to see me. i wanna feel loved.
