My Birthday….

And why I don’t celebrate it anymore…

So this is a longish story and may be a little too TMI for most people.  But I feel like its important to know especially since I’ll be releasing some articles on my views on grief, loss and the themes of that in Ready Player One.  And I feel like you all should know that I speak from a place of personal knowledge and not from a psychological perspective.

Please note this disclaimer: I am not a licensed psychologist or psychiatrist but I will be speaking from a place of personal knowledge…


My birthday is tomorrow. November 21st.

I’ll be turning 33 this year…which is both scary and awesome because I feel like I’m finally at a place in my life where I don’t care what other people think, I love what I love, and the big plans I’ve been making will actually start coming to fruituion.  Because you know what? I’m not going to let anything stand in the way of them anymore.

But that being said and out of the way isn’t why I don’t celebrate my birthday anymore.

The reason I don’t celebrate anymore is because of my mom.

Now I know what evereyone’s mind jumps to when I say that with no other information.  People automatically think that maybe we had a bad relationship, or I was abused in some way…or we were too poor to celebrate or whatever terrible thing that comes to mind when you automatically jump to conclusions from that simple sentence.

I don’t celebrate my birthday anymore because of my mom.

And here is why.  And why I wanted to tell you before I kind of go off the grid tomorrow more that I have lately.  I’m trying to get better about blogging guys…it just doesn’t come completely naturally to me. I’m getting there.

I don’t celebrate my birthday anymore because of my mom.

Because 4 years ago she died.

She was the big celebrator in our family.  My dad loves birthdays too but mom was the go to for everything.  Head to toe, top to bottom and everywhere in the house it was always something to celebrate. From holidays to birthdays to little love notes left around the house and in lunchboxes.

She didn’t really cook, didn’t do a lot of those things that most people in America usually associate with moms like sewing and homesteading and gardening.   But man could she celebrate.

She had a very specific aesthetic which I’ve defiantly picked pieces of up in my old age. But every single holiday had something up for it from orange and purple lights for Halloween to a valentines banner on the front door…everything had a decoration.

And we always had gifts…ALWAYS.  Leprechauns, cupid and the Easter bunny never missed a visits. We always had candy on Saint Nicholas’s day (even if we weren’t all that good that year).  There was always a package to my house when I was living in California be it Christmas or Halloween or even New Years.  And she never forgot my friends…ever.

I could always count on that.  Until she got really sick…and even then she did send stuff until she absolutely couldn’t even though I told her to stop and save her strength.

She was diagnosed almost 7 years ago with Stage 3 cancer.

She fought for 3 years.

She underwent chemo and experimental treatments and surgeries and all sorts of things I’m sure I don’t even know about.

And yet through it all she only thought about us kids.  My brother and I. And my dad.

When she died I just stopped celebrating.  On a regular day, or her birthday, the day she died, or even the day we buried her I don’t seem to miss her much.  Sometimes it hits me and there are certain things I can’t listen to (like the song my dad used to set the video of her life to) but for the most part I don’t think about her not being there much.

But celebrating is hard.  I’ve been able to get back Halloween which is my favorite holidays. Other more secularized holidays like Easter and Christmas are slowly coming back or being replaced by my own religious holidays.  And I’ve been able to go out and enjoy those seasons out in public.  Even going so far as to being able to pull out some of her decorations this last year.

But my birthday.  That’s when it all hits me.

And because of that…I don’t celebrate it.

I don’t do much.

I get a pizza delivered…watch some crappy movies and that’s it.

I try to forget the day exists.

I even shut off my phone so I don’t have to see the birthday wishes coming in on social media.

So again this year it will go.

And tomorrow. Ill try to forget its my birthday.  But because my mom isn’t here…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.

me and the mini 4 layer cake from the Hello Kitty Cafe popup in California a few years ago

Happy Birthday, Kurt Vonnegut!

Visiting the Kurt Vonnegut Museum in Downtown Indianapolis, Indiana.

I will be visiting the Kurt Vonnegut Museum today in celebration of Kurt Vonnegut. Keep an eye on our Instagram page and our Twitter account for photos and chatting as I finally explore this local gem.

And a very Happy Birthday to the late Kurt Vonnegut.