Finding Ways to Celebrate Daniel's Birthweek

Today is the day before Daniel's thirteenth birthday. Friends have been worrying that shortly this will be the first Mother's Day since his passing, but really, Mother's Day is not on my screen of days to fear. Daniel's birthday, however, is likely to be very difficult. It symbolizes not only the first birthday since his passing, but the beginning of his teen years that he is not here to have or to claim. Somehow I know he has attained teen years and lots of wisdom, but it still makes marking time here, the way we embodied humans do it, difficult.
Normally, our family celebrates a birthday on the first Saturday after the day, because we are all home then. The birthday boy or girl normally opens a few presents on the day, and their family part is the Saturday. I was actually willing to celebrate on both days in memory of Daniel, but Matthew's driving school dates, which are quite a few, fit right over this time also. Daniel would love the idea that Matt will be driving soon. I decided that in honor of Daniel's birthday to buy a fair amount of boxed canned goods at Sam's Club and to drop them off at a local food bank. Daniel would get a kick out of his birthday being celebrated after his passing, and about good being done even though he isn't "in the flesh" to do it. We also plan to have a family lunch and birthday cake on Saturday as a remembrance. Today is the day in which I deliver the canned goods to the foodbank. I hope Daniel and my Dad can see what we are doing. On the actual birthday I also plan to make a fuss of all the animals who love Daniel so very much.

Every Day Is Notable and Golden

In broad daylight when I have things to do, I am functional. Yesterday, I had to drive to the feed store about 30 miles from here, and stop by the bank. Even with music playing in the car, I was functional. (The contemporary christian station often makes me cry. It seems to play a lot of music with which I have some mental association.) It was a gloriously beautiful day and I couldn't help thinking about the last day I had brought Daniel to this town, also a glorious day though it was in the Fall. I finished my errands pretty quickly and on the 30 mile return trip realized that it was one of those Spring days when everyone has a garage sale. I passed by a number of sales stopping at one church sale which was pretty well finishing when I arrived. The people were pleasant and I bought some lovely framed pictures for very little money. The bright sun was shining and a warm brisk wind was blustering. On the way home passing the tons of daffodils in bloom and fruit trees in flower, I stopped at one more sale. A woman and her husband were selling a variety of things, mostly things I didn't care about. They had collectible cars, collectible swords, knives, tons of vcr tapes and dvds. They also had boxes and boxes of unusual books. Some of them were woodworking, some were about trains, others were about spirituality and some about history. There were also some on the history of American Indians. Since the books were very inexpensive and in excellent condition, I took this opportunity to load up. I was the only one at the sale and the woman began to talk with me. She looked frail and sad. Somehow she began to tell me of certain things in her life, and somehow I began to tell her of Daniel. I don't actually remember how this happened. Before I knew it, I was telling her of the dream Matthew had in which Daniel conveyed his cause of death, and showing her Daniel's picture. I felt awful when it caused the woman to cry big wet tears. On the one hand I felt absolutely compelled to tell her that to my way of thinking, we don't cease to be, and that love never ends. On the other I felt guilty for conveying something which caused the woman to cry. I have no idea what her medical issues are, although I am sure there are some, and I feel some responsibility for stressing her. I hugged her and loaded my books into the car to come home. It's funny that since Daniel passed, every day is notable, special, golden, and in some way relates to him and his time here.