a birthday of the past

there was a year. 
one of the middle years of my college going.
that my world came apart. 
this was my first time.
perhaps that’s why it hurt
so much.


the people i thought were “my people” 
suddenly weren’t. 
and i was hurt beyond repair. 
i was loyal, yet was lied to. 
i pressed into hard places,
and i was left standing.


alone.


looming ahead of me and that shattered mess
was my birthday.


so when my mom called
and kindly inquired of me 
what i was planning to do with my friends
for my birthday


i hesitated. 


i couldn’t lie to her. 


so instead
i sobbed. 


because those who i wanted
to celebrate with me, 
weren’t even looking at me. 
wouldn’t even stand
in the same room as me.


sometimes it’s hard to know.
hard to know when it’s the time.
the time to rescue.


and from what i’ve learned from
watching my own mother
as well as my friend’s who wear the
“mom” tag,
it’s a mother’s hard work to know
when those times are,
but


not to worry.
she said.
stay right where you are.
i’m coming.


and that very night
she swooped in and enlisted
the ladies.


that night.
the ladies celebrated me.


they surrounded me.
they toasted me.
they ate with me.
they drank with me.
they laughed with me.
and they were oh so very merry with me.

they told me: 
this is who you are.
this is what your about.


they reflected back to me
what my bruised soul couldn’t see.
they gently picked up
the pieces of me that had be trampled to the ground.


the ladies,
who illustrated ages
scattering upwards a few years from my own,
they defined for me that night
what birthdays are really all about.


to be seen.
to be seen.
sometimes a bit battered
and bruised.
but still resilient.




sometimes in those moments
you just know
that you are 
absolutely
positively
the luckiest person on earth.


cheers.


see?
even years later
i still drink to that.
and those ladies.


to this next trip around the sun
{i’ll keep you posted},




– n.