Yup, they made me cry on my birthday

I hate my birthday. Seriously, I really do. I'm not entirely sure when that started. I only remember one birthday from my childhood, a backyard party at our home on the military base in Japan, and that memory is very pleasant.

I remember my 16th birthday, eating at a Chinese restaurant in California with my birth mother, step dad and step siblings after I had just moved in with them and attempted to see if I could live happily in their home. It was awkward, my step dad kept complaining about how much it was going to cost and how they couldn't afford it, my step siblings were cranky and rowdy (that were 2 and 5 years old). My mother spent the evening complaining about how stupid and apparently incompetent her friends were (her favorite past time of all time) and there was a dead roach on my coke that had green maraschino cherries in it. Yes green, and no, they aren't as good as the red ones.

Maybe that's when it started, I don't really remember. I moved back to Texas with my dad shortly after and every birthday since, that I can remember has been one series of odd events after another. 3 years ago, almost everyone in my family actually forgot my birthday. Completely.

There is a hex on December 5th. I swear.

Not to mention, I'm not a huge fan of gifts. I'm not a very materialistic person and I'm not much for random things that serve no purpose. I don't need knickknacks that need dusting, I don't need expensive things I worry I'll break, I don't need ugly sweaters I won't wear. I do however always need socks. Just socks.

This year, like every year, as my birthday approached I felt the familiar dread build up in the days prior. My fiancé and my 18 year old daughter made comments here or there about how excited they were over the gift they purchased and I tried my best to ignore them. The fiancé even questioned why I completely ignored his taunting "I know what you're getting for your birthday" sing song.  Because, because it's my birthday and weird shit just happens.

I woke up the morning of my birthday with an overall sense of dread and really hoped everyone would just forget. I woke up to Facebook posts and text messages reminding me it was here - my least favorite day of that year. I kissed my love goodbye and even in his sleepy stupor, he too remembered and wished me happy birthday.

I work 28 miles from home. On an excellent day, I can get there in 30 minutes, an average morning commute is 45 minutes to an hour. That day, that Friday, it took me an hour and 15 minutes and I was 15 minutes late. My employee was 30 minutes late. Traffic was horrible.

I was relieved the first few hours when no one knew, and my coworker (who I've known for 4 years) forgot. Then another coworker (and friend) offered to buy me lunch because it was my birthday ... And it started.

I can stand up in a room full of salesman and present a training, I can act in a play in front of an entire audience, I talk to and meet an extraordinary amount of people a week and am perfectly fine --- but birthday attention weirds me out!!! All day long I heard, "why didn't you tell anyone it was your birthday?" Ummmm, what? Was I just supposed to randomly tell people my birthday was coming up? Um, no. No. No. That's so not me. Because I am weird and I hate my birthday.

My precious daughter and man were texting me about dinner at 7 while we discovered the cause of the  traffic that made us late. An 18 Wheeler apparently drove under a low clearance bridge that he did NOT clear on 183, the freeway that runs right along side our dealership. Yup, some jackass broke 183. Some jackass broke a damn freeway on my birthday. His idiocy caused parts of the bridge to fall and the structural integrity was compromised and it was shut down. Or that's as close as I gathered from the many conversations and text messages. All I knew was some jackass broke 183 and I needed that freeway to get home.

My coworkers kicked me out at 4:45 hoping I'd make it home by 7 to be with my family for dinner. My GPS couldn't seem to make any good decisions and after rerouting me into the same bullshit mess twice, I finally accomplished 28 miles in exactly 2 hours. I was tired, and cranky, and my bladder was screaming at me wondering why I drank that large horchata on the way home. So when I opened the door to my home, and my family jumped out and yelled surprise and I noticed the happy birthday signs and watched my boys laugh as they played with the blow out party favors .... Well, I'm an asshole. I didn't mean to overlook it, and I didn't completely ... But I didn't appreciate it the right way. As they all came over to hug me and wish me happy birthday, I know I didn't thank them properly. I was feeling claustrophobic after being in my car for 2 hours and really just wanted some air and I really, really, really needed to relieve my bladder. I really should have responded better, but sometimes I'm an asshole.

After putting my stuff down, finally having the chance to use the restroom and realizing I didn't have enough time to change my clothes, we rushed out the door to Genghis Grill so my hard working 18 year old daughter could buy the family dinner at one of our favorite places.

At the restaurant, we were seated next to the bathrooms and our table smelled weird. None of this surprised me as I just sat in 2 hours of traffic because some asshole broke a freeway on my birthday. We made it through the ardous task of 6 people preparing their bowls (this is not that easy with a 10 and 12 year old who pay attention to nothing and almost dropped their food and kept trying to cross-contaminate all the damn ingredients).

As we waited for our food to cook, my excited children handed me a gift bag and the look in their eyes told me they knew I was going to love it. As I read the cards from my children, I noticed how well my short people are progressing with their cursive and smiled as I read their sweet silly words. I read the note from my dear 15 year old son who is typically not expressive and cherished his thankful sincere words and began to tear up. I glanced at my sweet daughters face, beaming with pride as I was close to opening the gift I knew she had picked out and paid for. If you knew, if you only knew what the olders and I have been through, you would truly understand how beautiful and precious this moment really was. I read the note from my fiancé and felt so blessed to have this amazing man by my side.

I didn't want to open my gift, I just wanted to sit in that moment, thankful for time and healing. Thankful for love and family. Thankful.

Instead, I opened the card from my parents who (for the first time) are living life on the road in an RV and who we rarely see anymore. I'm very close to my dad and step mom, and while I enjoyed the act of love to send me a card, my heart was a little sad because I miss them horribly.

The short people became impatient and kept telling me to open my gift. As I slid the tissue paper away and my hand reached a hard plastic case, I looked down and saw "The Lord of the Rings." I instantly began to cry, my older children smiled and laughed and began their rounds of "I told you she'd cry".  I'm a crier. Oh Lord yes, I cry. A lot. I'm that woman that still cries at the end of the little mermaid when her daddy gives her legs because her loves her so much and wants for her happiness, I'm the woman who cries at MasterCard commercials about coming home for the holidays, I'm the woman who cries when a kid is on the news because someone made his dreams come true. Soldiers coming home videos? Oh yes, bawling. The video of the little girl who lets her calf in the house and it falls asleep in her lap - yup, crying.

While yes, yes I love LOTR - you do not  understand the meaning of this gift.  About 7 years ago, in my former life when I was married to the kids dad and was a stay at home/homeschooling mom, I owned a 12 disc extended version, collectors edition LOTR boxed set. While I've never been one for stuff or things, I loved this thing. I don't remember if I bought it or if my dad gave it to me for Christmas (or if I bought it and told my then husband that's what he bought me for my birthday or Christmas). No idea, can't remember.

I do remember watching the extended scenes and behind the scenes with my children. I remember carefully opening the case each time with the utmost care to avoid damaging it. I remember admiring the art work, opening the map of middle earth and just being in awe that I owned such a beautiful thing. I wouldn't let anyone touch it, it was mine, and I owned it. My dad struggled with money our entire childhood, my exhusband and I did as well. We didn't own nice things, except this. It wasn't simply that it was expensive or nice, I think part of it is because I genuinely enjoy the films, part of it is my dad was a Tolkien fan and we owned copies of the books for as long as I can remember. That LOTR set brought part of my childhood into my home, in the most beautiful form to share with my children. The few occasions I let them touch the case and map were special to them as well.

Then we hit hard times, as we always did. We had already sold the swords my mother bought me in Japan, we sold my iPod,  and anything else we could that had value ... But it wasn't enough. So I posted my treasured LOTR boxed set on eBay. I was disappointed people actually bid on my auction and there was a winner who met my reserve. When the auction closed, I lovingly packaged my DVD set into a priority mail box. No media mail shipping for LOTR. Nope. I prayed it's new owner would love it as much as I did. When I dropped it off at the post office the next day, my heart was sad. I don't completely know why I loved it so dearly, but I did.

While I now make almost 4 times as much as the income we lived on back then, I still don't buy myself nice things. I have 4 children to support, I don't need nice things ... And yet, here in my lap, in the middle of a restaurant was perhaps the most beautiful gift I've ever received.

It was a gift of love. My sweet, amazing children remembered. They remembered how much I loved a "thing" and attempted to replace that "thing" I gave up about 7 years ago. It's not the same set, it doesn't have the beautiful case that looks like a book, it doesn't have the beautiful map of middle earth that carefully details each and every fictional place I envision in my head. It's a Blue Ray DVD set in a hard plastic case and it is now one of the most treasured things I own. Because it's so much more than just a case with DVDs, it's love and memories given to me by the people I love most in the world, and I will treasure it forever, and I will never, ever, ever give that up again. It's the most beautiful gift I've ever received.

I sat there, in the middle of the commotion at a popular restaurant on a busy Friday night, with tears streaming down my cheeks looking at these 5 people smiling at me and damn, I was just overwhelmed with love. These children, this man ... There are no words.

Then ... Our food came and I bit into raw chicken because I'm the only person in the whole damn place whose food didn't cook properly and they had to recook it and then I was just grossed out and couldn't eat and the manager apologized a million times and kept talking to us and comped my bowl because there is just some kind of weird damn hex on my birthday ....

But ... It was the best birthday I've ever had.

*** UPDATE: I finally actually opened it all the way today, I've been working non-stop since and hadn't taken a moment to actually open it! And ... to my pleasant surprise it does have the maps just like my old set! It's beautiful. Absolutely beautiful, in every way ❤