Milestones – My 30th Birthday

 

Birthday’s was always my thing.

Ask my friends, well my childhood friends, they would tell you, every year we would have a big bash.

November never loose.

I can just imagine how I drove my parents crazy and up the walls..with all my demands, I vividly remember my 16^th birthday had champagne. Imagine champagne for 16 year olds. The venue was our garage, with my sound system, which up to today still exists, and my whole crew. Fun times, innocent times.

I hope my son will be more merciful once he realises what birthday parties mean. Up to now he has been a breeze. He has a birthday party every second year, a rule instituted by myself, nothing else. The year he has no party, we do something small and have a photoshoot as a family.

As he is nearing his 4th year on this earth a latest trend is erupting in our household, we need to have cupcakes, candles and a party hat so that if I tell him it is someones birthday and that person is not in the same town as us, we sing happy birthday, he has on his party hat and he blows out the candle and he takes it a bit further by forcing my hand for a gift. He just does not understand that it is not his birthday too…

However, as I became older and my parents fell away, birthdays did not become a thing anymore.

It was just an ordinary day, and it kind of left me disappointed, because, it will start building up from the 01^st of November – which me and my childhood friends labelled as Sweet November, and by the date of my birthday it will be an explosion, of feelings, erupting deep inside my belly, and I would be overjoyed, because it is MY birthday, MY day.

I dated such a charming man once, my birthdays would always be a THING, just like when I was a child, yes not with the garage party, with dimmed lights and a sound system and champagne, but a THING in the sense of, he would call me at 12am and wish me the nicest things that I have not ever heard, or send me a text at 12am and he had a way of saying my name, soft, and the letters would roll of his tongue, I would always think of clouds and clear skies, and heaven(my version of heaven), when I hear him say my name (imagine!). The day would start with a breakfast at some nice intimate place, the entire day I would be on cloud nice, and then a huge bunch of flowers would be delivered at my work place… He never sent flowers from the same flower shop, everytime they were a bit more exquisite and unconventional, thus my love for fresh flowers in my house started.

I have been a facilitator for 80% of my career so I would forever be having an audience when that huge bunch of flowers would be delivered, and as yellow (yellow bone) as I am, I would go completely red.. and as confident as I am, I would be lost to the world, to my audience and to humanity for a few seconds…..and then I would be upset, that he would insist that humungous bunch of flowers should be delivered personally to me infront of an audience, because most of the time the audience would not even know it is my birthday, but I loved every minute… okay, sorry totally derailed by nice thougths..

Back to my 30^th birthday.

So my 30^th birthday at least had to be special, but that charming guy was not there anymore to make it special, we had these on and off times, this was our off time..such a shame..

And my mother just passed away two months before my 30^th birthday, I was not expecting any thunder and lightning.

Yep, passed away, she was only 54, so young, I never expected her to die so young…a heart attack, right infront of me.. I will never forget that day, it is etched in my memory..

I was engulfed in pain, physical and emotional pain. It felt as if knives were stuck in my entire body… that is an excruciating pain mfana.

Pain that would cause me not to brush my hair daily, and I have ethnic hair, if it is wet and not dried and brushed, you will see a bad bad hairdo for days……………aphrodisiac..

Pain that would make me cry and wail on my sitting room floor for hours after work when I step into my flat. Shem..

I would feel how my lungs would search for air, but I would not get the air, and I would just cry…

I would get these mini panic attacks, only now I know it was panic attacks.

Horrible time in my life, there was this void, huge huge void…

Not a time I like to think about, but writing this forces me to think of it.

I told myself, the right thing to do, to celebrate my birthday, right after I buried my mother, would be not to celebrate. But friends convinced me and we had some type of bash on the rooftop of some prestigious hotel. But two days prior to this I decided to get a tattoo. Not my first, but also not just a tattoo. A tattoo of my mother’s name on my wrist. The tattoo artist was a mobile artist, so he would come to your home and do his thing in the comfort of your home. He is so gifted, and the reason why I chose my late mother’s name was at the age of 30 I was scared to forget my mother.

I was shit scared that I would forget the one person that meant the whole world to me, so I thought, by tattooing her name on my wrist, I can never forget her, even if I wanted to, if I turn around my wrist, I will see her name and I would remember her.

Such a silly thought of me, but I didn’t know it then.

I could never forget her, she was too awesome.

That tattoo was so painful, some friends and close cousins came to view the auspiscious event, and boy oh boy, I had one topping up my glass of wine every now and then, and as much as I was in pain, I cried, due to the physical pain I experienced but also due to the heart ache, I cried and cried and both hurt, it hurts so much at times still. I cannot remember what made me cry the most, the physical pain of getting a tattoo on my wrist, or the physical pain of loosing my mother not too long ago, but eitherway, I cried. I could never sleep alone anymore in my flat, I had to call my girlfriend all the time to come have sleep overs, poor girl, I abused her, if I slept alone and woke up the next morning, I would totally have a panic attack again… It was the worst feeling in the world to know that the one person who was consistent in your life from birth to almost 30 yrs is not there, to reprimand, to shout at you, etc…. It was the loneliest days of my life.

What I can tell you is that nothing is the same anymore, Birthdays, Christmas, Easter, etc

Years later, my birthdays are not what it was anymore. I prefer, quiet birthdays, which I spend with my son, that is meaningful.

I prefer meaningful interactions. Age is a wonderful teacher.

No more bashes, on rooftops or garages or 12am calls or 12am texts, and I give my son money to buy me humungous bunches of flowers….much to his excitement that he can have dollars…

I bet one day when he is grown up, he will buy his wife flowers all the time, humungous bunches, and he would tell her, mamma always wanted flowers…..and he would smile..

Enjoy your birthday.

Sending you Curvy Scorpio Love