WHY DO MY ADULT CHILDREN’S (that always seems such an oxymoron) birthdays oftentimes leave me feeling a bit melancholy?
Today my youngest, my son, celebrates his birthday. Tomorrow his oldest sister, eight years his senior, celebrates hers.
I long for the birthdays when I baked them a treat—quite often not a cake—and we dined out together as a family. Together is the key word here. I miss the togetherness. Today I’ll call my son, a college student near Boston. And I’ll feel a tinge of sadness knowing no one is likely making him a birthday treat. Yes, I could order a cake for him from Tufts University. For $35. That’s more than I want to spend on a cake for a young man who isn’t particularly fond of sweets anyway.
I’ll miss, too, giving him a birthday hug.
My eldest, though, lives near enough for hugs and an in-person birthday celebration. On Saturday my husband and I drove to the north metro to celebrate our daughter’s milestone birthday with lunch out. Later we enjoyed a homemade chocolate chip cheesecake I baked for her. In between, my husband and son-in-law assembled a crib for my soon-to-be-born granddaughter.
It was a wonderful day, especially when I felt Baby Girl move across my daughter’s abdomen. Giddy describes my level of happiness in that moment.
These are the moments I must embrace and hold tight. New memories. New life. New joys.
Soon another birthday to celebrate. This time in the role of grandma.
© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling