Theme song: Happy Birthday (Stevie Wonder!)
Hello, friends.
Normally I would write about this around June 5, the date of my ghostdaughter, Chloe's, birth.
However, Los Gatos Girl was feelin' it and asked me to write about anniversaries and birthdays: why they make you sad and what you can do about it.
Here's the thing. As those of you who know me know, my daughter died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) on June 8, 1999. People, that was nearly 14 years ago. And yet, each year, I am grief stricken anew by that death.
Grief specialists say that the mothers tend to mourn the date of birth more while the fathers tend to mourn the date of death more. This was true for my ex-husband, Michael, and me.
When Birthdays Make Me Sad
I'm not sure why the death anniversary affects him more than her birthday, but I can tell you why it affects me less.
Chloe's birthday was, up until that point, the happiest day of my life. Maybe it still is. I mean, unfortunately, my older son's birth was marred by my fear that he would die. That, in fact, I would not be able to keep him alive as I had been unable to keep his sister alive.
I know, I know. It wasn't my fault she died. And yet.
My littler boy's birth was a joyous and triumphant occasion that was less marred by the fear that he would die (although there was that!) than blurred by the fact that I was a mother of two and quite busy hobbling around trying to keep his brother well fed and rested while I nursed and recovered from a difficult (yet amazing!) birth.
Theoretically, let's just say Chloe's birthday was the happiest single day of my life. I felt whole and complete as I had never before felt. For me her birthdays are a reminder of a secret longing that will never be fulfilled. I say secret because I try not to know it myself -- at least not consciously all the time -- because that would simply be too painful and distracting for a woman who is busy as I am.
Don't get me wrong, here. I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I have a happy life and I love my sons beyond anyone, even Chloe, I have ever loved. But it is true that her birthday reminds me of the tremendous loss I experienced, and keep experiencing, each year she does not turn 12, 13 or, this year, 14 or next year 15. . . .It is, sadly, never quite over.
I think you'll find, if you ask other mothers whose children have died, that they feel the same way.
When Anniversaries Relieve Me
On the other hand, make no mistake: her death was the worst, most frightening, traumatizing day of my life. I would never want to relive it and each year when that date comes I thank God it's at least 13 years behind me.
Everyone Is Different
Whether you grieve a birthday or an anniversary, or both, depends on you and the meaning you attach to the event.
The older we get, the more losses we rack up. And even happy occasions, such as the birthday of a thriving child, can make us sad, or at least emotional, because now we know time passes.
We know that what we have is destined to go (Don't take my word for it. Google "impermanence buddhism"). For some of us, this brings a certain loving detachment. For others, it causes longing for the past.
What Does It Mean?
The take home is that remembering and grieving are part of being human. It's beautiful to remember those you have loved, although, I know, that beauty can be sharp like broken glass.
I know, too, that in America we are supposed to be happy all the time -- probably to keep productivity high or something. But that does not honor the animal within us and the cellular memory that our animal holds. Grieving and integrating our losses is a way of honoring loved ones that also honors us.
I use the word integrate because I don't think we "get over" the most devastating losses we experience. Instead, we incorporate them and we, in the Buddhist sense, digest them to get their full value.
Let your losses and your grief and your remembering shape you. And let that shaping be for full flowering of love and compassion within you, for you and for everyone you meet.
Your Turn
I know it's hard to feel grief. How do birthdays and anniversaries affect you?
It's funny...when we talked, I was thinking about how my ex's birthday was just the end of last month & even after 25+ years, I still think about him. I mean, don't get me wrong...not in a "oh, what if everything had worked out." But more remembering some of the happy times, and thanks to the impermanence buddhism, I forget the knock down drag out fights where things were said that would never be unsaid, etc. etc.
ReplyDeleteBut death, heh, yeah. After my mom died, I hit every date...my birthday & how she'd always do this for me, her birthday, thanksgiving, christmas, New years & how we'd always call at midnight, Easter, her anniversary with my Dad, and finally, the Last Month. For years, I'd think about how Sep 9th was the last day she told me she loved me, and how I'd made her last meal that she could eat, and then the date of the stroke & then the date she died...and it was wrenching inside of me.
Then, after 8.5 years, I had a long talk with hubby and he said she would never have wanted me to be this sad...ever. And I thought about that for 2 years. And then things got a little easier.
It may have been brought on by losing someone every 6 months for 11 years....the last was like a fireworks ending...3 uncles in 4 months.
And now that it seems to be starting up again (2 deaths in 6 weeks...probably a 3rd coming up), I feel so light and neutral inside. That it's just the way of things.
Mind you, I don't think losing a child is the way of things. And I don't think you ever get over it. You just learn to cope with it better. And appreciate all the good in your life.
But you know, I think what we miss out on with our Be Happy, Don't Damn, Take a Gram mentality? We can't appreciate the happy without the sorrow....And I think we're turning into plastic people who are insensitive to others because we forget that these bad times should be shared to make it easier to cope with.
Just my 2c for today. :-)