Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Karen Spears Zacharias

Home
Evangelical
It’s My Birthday

It’s My Birthday

Last updated on: November 13, 2013 at 3:29 am by Karen Spears Zacharias

It’s My Birthday 2013-11-13T03:29:47+00:00 Karen Spears Zacharias

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

It’s my birthday.

The very first in my life without the woman who birthed me. I’d post one of those photos here. You know the kind with the mother kneeling beside her daughter or son, as they blow out their candles, but I don’t have a single photo of me and my mother on my birthday. I doubt Brother John or Sister Tater do either.

I don’t know if it was just the kind of mother our mama was, or just that back in that day parents didn’t make a fuss over things the way the parents of today do. My friend Tara wrote an aching essay recently about facing her first birthday without the woman beside her. Tara said her mama once made her a crossword puzzle cake.

Mama liked to work the crossword but she never made me a cake like that. Once in a while she would make me banana pudding. It was one of Daddy’s favorite too. I don’t typically like banana pudding but I liked the way my mother made it, with the meringue crisped golden in the oven. And Nabisco vanilla wafers. Only those would do.

Whatever cakes she made are long forgotten. There were no parties with pony rides, ever. Birthdays in Hawaii were spent at the beach. Most birthdays were celebrated with a cake after supper and whatever gift we were going to get. Birthdays with Mama were not all day affairs. I have among my belongings some of the birthday cards she sent me over the years. Those are the true treasures because my mother was not a writer. If you received a card with more than “Love, Mom” on it, that meant she was really trying to let you know how much she loved you.

The year before Mama fell ill she called me on my birthday and told me the story of my birth. How the ambulance came, blaring just like those sirens on TV in those foreign films, she said. Because I was a face first baby – wouldn’t you know it? – and because she had spent a long time in labor, Mama had to be transported from the base’s Army hospital in Stuttgart to a more specialized hospital in town. At some point the doctors told my father I might not make it. Or that my mother might not.

I don’t have any idea why they didn’t do a C-section but they didn’t. Mama did say that because the birth was so difficult for her she didn’t really want much to do with me that first day out. So it was my father who fussed over me.

There was no family in Germany. Nobody to help the young military family. No meals waiting when my mother arrived home from the hospital. No baby showers given and celebrated. No grandmother nearby, eager to be of assistance. I don’t even know if my mother called her mother when I was born. Our people were a poor people. Phone calls were expensive.

We left Germany when I was six weeks old. My 19-year-old mama on a big ocean-liner with a three-year-old son and a six-week-old daughter. When my sister was born two years later, my mother took a taxi to the hospital. Our father was in Korea.

In truth, my mother spent most of her life alone, doing for herself. A lot of the military spouses I know are just like Mama that way. Independent. Headstrong. Unwilling or unable to let others do for them. The only community they’ve ever known has been a military community. Cut off from that, they make do for themselves.

They are all strong women.

I am not strong that way.

Sometimes I think I’m not strong at all, not really.

I need friends around me, cheering me on, helping me out, telling me “You go, girl.” For years now a veteran I have never met sends me a birthday card from Wisconsin. One year Ray and his wife Kathy sent a red, white and blue afghan. Ialways call them after I get the card, and we talk about the local politics and our kids. He remembers the names of each one of my children and what jobs they had the last time we spoke. He buys every book I write and actually reads it. He has a deep laugh, the kind that uproots the tree. I look forward to these annual phone calls. I worry about the day when they will cease.

My daughter told me the other day that my love language is gifts.

Yes, I am now at that age when my daughters are trying to figure out what makes me tick. Fortunately for them, I’ve left a wide path littered with words and stories.

Usually I am flying home from DC on my birthday, seeing how it bumps right up next to Veterans Day. This year I left right after the ceremony and woke up to quiche, grapes, & gingersnap cookies, all made by this little man’s mama:

Sullivan and I had our first real conversation this morning. There is an orange truck on his dresser. He was pointing to it.

“Do you want to drive the truck?” I asked.

“No,” he said, shaking his head.

In ten years from now, if I am still here, I probably won’t remember any of the gifts of this birthday but I bet I never forget our first “conversation.”

Stories swapped. Food shared.

Life’s a party.

Previous Post

November 11, 2013

Gone off the Farm

Next Post

November 14, 2013 Obamacare's Sticker Shock

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category child abuse Military ministry pop culture prayer Sports Uncategorized Veterans Day

Select a Month July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011 October 2011 September 2011 August 2011 July 2011 June 2011 May 2011 April 2011 March 2011 February 2011 January 2011 December 2010 November 2010 October 2010 September 2010

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz