New Birthday

Birthdays have become cumbersome by a certain age.  I've remained the same age by choice now for several years, and for obvious reasons must now change the claimed age for credibility purposes to another year, by one.  Let's see how long it can carry me. 

My younger sister still looks younger; I don't bother with makeup for a significant number of years now.  I've adopted the Elizabeth Warren with glasses look, with longer hair, and the days are numbered for that as well. 

It was a good birthday this year, for the first time in awhile.  As I didn't really 'have' the birthdays in between, it's pretty much a wash anyway. 

Last night with all the family excitement, us actually being together for a holiday, I again knew what day it was and the overwhelm factor was so strong yet again the evening passed, until today. 

Still recovering, grateful everyone is safe, and scratching the surface of the catching up from what is usually maintained when alone, almost abandoned with family events in progress.   We will all be still recovering for several days from the travel and getting back to life without family together, which in a way seems very much wrong and neither ideal nor optimally functional.  So much more can happen for the better when everyone is together long and often enough.  Staying busy keeps the sadness away.  Productivity is in spurts instead of steady, which would be different otherwise.

Postcards

Since sometime in September. Daily. Including while together over the Thanksgiving holiday, for the first time since August. He said he wanted postcards, not letters, though the postage is the same, with the exception of the ones the post office sells. On postcards, there can be no secrets, or interrogations. Even the postman or postpersons can see.

Catching up from seeing him over the holiday, so am continuing to write every day, as he had asked if I would on the days we were together as well, as if written on those days, talking about what happened then. It's all important, we both need to remember.

No time for real conversation with each other, or other family for that matter. Everything was on a schedule. Watching TV together is something many take for granted. For us it was special. Shopping, on the worst such days of the year, with unusual crowds compared to any other time. Only because he asked: definitely not something I would do alone. Not to mention owning multiple pets, that he had to break to me one could not go back with him as he had wanted. His first and only special one that he truly loved. She seemed sad not to be able to stay with him. Lots of effort to get them all packed into a car for a very long trip. It took all day before leaving that evening, to drive through the night.

Pouring rain all through Virginia and North Carolina, in the dark. It wasn't so cold that having the car turned off while napping so as not to fall asleep at the wheel made it uncomfortable without heat, and the rain continuing to fall helped a little. Which wasn't the same for the trip back. Ice was coming down in Delaware and exhaustion created a need for seeking out every other rest area.

Seemed like it was all nerves and adrenaline just to get on the road to begin with, anticipated and planned for weeks; last minute details demanding and tiring as well.

It was all worth it to see him jump out from behind the tropical landscaping to flag down the car, letting me know I'd found the place, followed by his grandmother, my mother, awaiting the arrival. It was almost a 'normal' holiday, for the first time in too long.

Still I write, like breathing, instead of talking, two at a time, sometimes from me, sometimes from the pets: hybrids of their points of view. All from me might be boring after awhile; from a pet can keep it interesting.

When next to know soon; whenever it is, it's still too long, and not right. Will keep the cards going as long as it takes, because he wanted them to keep coming.

The Adventures of Snapple S. or SnappleS

Red Bellied Parrot, which is really dark orange with all of the colors of the rainbow where it isn't orange below the breastbone, and expressive amber eyes; handsome. He was named Snapple because when one of the pet store employees would go out for their Snapple iced tea while this one was out on the counter, he would go for it quickly and take a drink.

Snapple had been in the store nine months when a manager who had seen my son and me for supplies and talking about our birds said Snapple 'would be good with us'. Little did I know then Snapple didn't take well with most of the other employees apart from two people, including the sales-adept manager. Another employee was happy to see him go when I finally went in to get him for a reduced price, which still wasn't cheap.

He's a medium parrot, though he can draw blood, I later found out after he became territorial in his new space, though he's compliant when he's in unfamiliar surroundings. He's done more major damage to furnishings than me, and fortunately my son has stayed clear.

Over this holiday weekend, as most mornings, Snapple has been repeating words the pet store manager taught him, mostly when I'm not in the room and can't hear all of them. 'Snapple's a good boy' is one, 'Hey, baby' is another, with chuckles and whistles added in. What I say that I've heard him repeat up to now is "No".

Staying in for a long weekend to get needed housework done, I resorted to using instant tea in a wide rimmed plastic cup (Tervis), to avoid going out for more preferable drinks. Snapple was on my head. I'd seen him on the rim of my coffee cup before when walking back into the kitchen, so I offered up the cup at my head, unable to see.

My son had even purchased tea at Dunkin Donuts in a styrofoam cup. We didn't know the rim surface was a factor. Snapple hadn't gone for it. Yesterday, as the cup was at my forehead, I felt the weight shift from my head onto the cup. I was able to bring the cup down to see what was happening.

Snapple was going for the tea, and doing his bobbing dance he had also learned at the pet store, or that's where it started. After taking a couple of sips, he looked straight at me and said "I love you." for the first time, in the same room. It was only the second thing I'd heard him say that was from me after "No". And it was only a few moments later that he bit me again, leaving welts (not blood, this time) that sent him back to 'his room'.

When my son was born, I exercised the option of giving him his father's last name, who was in the room during the birth (regrettably, I would have rather had a mirror at the other side of my crotch to see what was happening myself, without him). It was my choice, the naming thing, too. It was a courtesy of consideration and acknowledgement, after he'd signed the paternity papers, in the event anything happened to me 'in the short term', for the baby (had I only known...).

Snapple's behavior reminds me of just one reason why we're no longer together. One way in your presence, another with others. Nice one moment, cruel or inconsiderate the next. Breaking or carelessly losing things of value, and using sometimes irreplaceable resources. Since being with my child, omitting my last name from the child's name.

So as of this last 'I love you.' moment to moment episode Snapple has become SnappleS, as in 'Snapple's a good boy'. Well, it depends on whom you ask, and when.

A New Year's Eve To Remember

Car out. Son in. Santa was unable to deliver what was ordered, as an elf decided to keep them for himself, or something like that. So the money went back into the account, and I woke up the next morning with phone calls to make before a wonderful child woke up. I had agreed to keep the money until he could locate another of what the elf decided to keep, which he said shortly after awakening would be a week or so.

Had already made most of the necessary business calls, and had also pulled out of the coat pocket the business card of the privately owned pet store where a rather rare pink bird had been admired over time, since one of our other beloveds had suddenly passed and I had been quickly looking for another similar, so the grief would not be so bad for so long. In that earlier search the pink oversized parakeet/undersized parrot had been seen. Had been back since having found another like the one we had lost, to consider the possibility and logistics of transporting another during the holiday season with family visits on the agenda. It was mental gymnastics, for days on end until the day before, when the car seemed to have other plans.

It could have been worse: a total loss for costs equivalent to the value of the car, which turned out to be only a percentage of that, as if the price tag were bearable, which it really wasn't. Won't have recovered from not seeing family on a critical day and time for quite awhile yet. Wonderful Son made it as bearable as possible. Would not have wanted to spend that kind of time with anyone else.

Upon explaining what remained of the day and discussing the days ahead, the bird came into the conversation, and Son's eyes lit up at the same time his body seemed to fill with energy. He was dressed and ready to leave sooner than any other day in recent memory.

The taxi arrived in front of where breakfast had been planned sooner than anticipated, so we got in and picked up breakfast at the destination instead, a few doors from the pet store, which turned out to be better. There was another bird he liked just as much or better; there were three of them, and one of the rare one. We played with all of them, then decided on the latter, for today.

Just like who could not take the place of our first lost beloved, though loved as much than before, being in between the fabric of his clothing layers, this one today was just as friendly and took to him just as much, in her own unique way.

It was hard to leave again out into the cold after holding her and introducing her to her new home, though we managed to get to dinner at one of his favorite restaurants and get back before the festivities of the evening could be felt on the streets, while holiday lights still flickered and moved in front lawns on the way home. He had been so wonderful, and today had been no exception. The joy of the day was fleeting; it has been hard keeping the sadness of tomorrow at bay, until we are together again.