The smell of fresh rain with a cool breeze was flowing through the house while I was standing in the kitchen getting ready to season a couple pork chops to barbecue for dinner. The kids and I had gone camping all weekend and were ready to be at home. It was Andrew’s birthday and he would have turned 42 years old. Since Andrew died, I have absolutely dreaded all the holidays and special occasions mainly because I did not want to go through these tough days without him here. All the “firsts” without him, are proving to be the hardest. For weeks now, I had been counting down the days until his birthday but not with enthusiasm and excitement because I knew this year was going to be hard. Although I was slightly dreading this day, I knew I wanted to do something special for him, yet I just did not know what I was going to do, especially with the restrictions of social distancing.
Camping sounded like a good choice to get away for a couple days, relax, and enjoy the time spent with one another. We wanted to celebrate Andrew’s birthday on Saturday night even though it was the day before his birthday. I had a hard time deciding what kind of birthday dessert to make. Andrew loved dark, rich chocolate cake (especially the cake from Costco), Funfetti, and anything lemon flavored such as cakes or pie. I thought it over in my head for a couple days, trying to think if I would be able to make all three and how each one would hold up camping. I ended up making Funfetti cupcakes and took them camping with us.
After we ate dinner on Saturday night, all of us who were camping together wrote a note or wish to Andrew on a special piece of paper. One of my sisters found Flying Prayer Paper on Amazon. This was cool because you write a message, you then light one of the corners of paper on fire, and as the paper starts to burn, it lifts up in the air. It felt so good to be able to release what I wanted to say to Andrew and to tell him how much he is loved and missed and how our life is not the same without him. The kids wrote and sent numerous messages and wishes to Andrew and then they wanted to send a message to their great grandmas who have passed over the years, our cat named Jack who died of cancer a few years back, and to Digger, who was our friends dog who died a couple days ago.
Once we finished releasing our messages, it was time for cupcakes. The kids added four candles to one cupcake and two in another for “42.” The candles were lit and everyone was standing around inside our fifth wheel. It was so weird to sing “Happy Birthday” and for that person to not be there. I didn’t know where to look. My eyes kept floating from person to person trying to find Andrew like he was late to his own birthday. I stood there with a fake smile on my face, pretending that everything was great. With each word that we sang, the realization that Andrew was not there nor was he ever going to be again sank in. That realization hit me hard. It was as if someone had punched me in the stomach and I was having a hard time breathing. “Happy birthday to An…” was all I could get out before the words stopped coming out of my mouth. I closed my eyes and shook my head hoping to keep the tears from falling down my cheeks, but I was not able to. I could not say his name and I could not finish the song.
The morning of Andrew’s birthday, I woke up feeling numb. I was sad but was not crying, I was happy but not, at the same time. I kept thinking about Andrew but knew deep down, he would not want me to be sad all day, so we enjoyed a nice morning riding bikes and swinging on the swings at the campground and then headed home. An hour before I started making dinner that night, the kids and I used a helium tank and blew up a couple biodegradable balloons. I found these balloons on Amazon (imagine that) and written on each balloon was a quote that said, “Forever in our hearts you’ll stay, We will love you and remember you every single day.” We blew up six, two for each of us, and tied some green Christmas ribbon to each balloon. We used a black sharpie and wrote personal messages on each of them. We released the balloons in our backyard and stood out there watching, laughing, and pointing at them as they sailed up high in the sky. Not long after coming inside, the rain started. At first it was just a few sprinkles and then a heavy, yet quick downpour. I liked to think this was Andrew’s way of saying he received our messages, and these were his happy tears falling down on us.
We had a few cupcakes leftover, so we frosted those, and put one candle in each of ours. The kids and I sang “Happy Birthday” and this time I was able to get through it with just a slight pause once I got to his name. I was breathing and not holding back tears, so I knew I had made slight progress from the night before. We decided to not blow the candles out right away in case the candles mysteriously blew out on their own. After waiting and waiting a little longer, each of us blew our candle out and of course, licked the frosting off before laying it on the plate.
Year after year, I am going to continue to celebrate Andrew’s birthday not only because he deserves it, but because all of us deserve to celebrate a person we love who has passed. The kids and I will still make one of his favorite birthday desserts, or all three, celebrate his life by remembering funny stories and fond memories, and think of him on his special day. It is okay to celebrate the life of someone that has died whether it is that person’s birthday, anniversary, or just a normal day. Just because this person is not physically here anymore, does not mean you have to stop celebrating. Each time you do something, such as singing “Happy Birthday,” as in my instance, it will get easier for you and each day, month, or year that passes, you are becoming stronger. Be proud of yourself for how much stronger you have become because we all know just how painful death is for those who are left behind.
Happy Birthday Andrew, make a wish, and blow out your candles.
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