My mother was born on 25th December. That will never change.
The way I feel about Christmas, knowing my mother’s birthday, has changed over time.
The beginning
As a young boy, like most kids, my parents’ birthdays didn’t mean anything to me. I don’t remember how old I was when I realised that my mother’s birthday and Christmas were the same day. I was just excited about Christmas presents, that I don’t think my mother's birthday occurred to me.
The grump
There was a time, when I realized my mother’s birthday was the same as Christmas that I was annoyed that my mother’s birthday was the same day as Christmas; I’d have to get TWO gifts for one day! Jeez! And to top it off my mother was impossible to shop for (much like I am now, I suppose). She always said she wanted nothing, but what sort of kid doesn’t get a gift for his mother’s birthday and Christmas?!? TWO gifts for one day! Jeez!
The sensitive kid
As I got older, I didn’t feel bad for me that my mother’s birthday was Christmas; I felt bad for her. I mean, no one outside of your family will even know it’s your birthday because they are obsessed with Christmas. I’m not one who likes to tout my birthday is coming up, but it’s at least nice to hear friends and colleagues say happy birthday to you. That doesn’t happen very much if your birthday is on Christmas because you don’t see those people. It was still a lot of work to get two gifts though.
The young adult
At some point in my life, I think it was me that came up with the idea that we shouldn’t get Christmas gifts for the adults in our family. Christmas gifts were for the kids. (I should note that I still love this idea and I like not receiving gifts from people, as odd as that may sound). At that point in my life, Christmas became more about my mother’s birthday than Christmas. 25th December was my mom’s birthday and it just happened to also be Christmas. I also looked at it as all these people in the world celebrating my mom’s birthday. I’ve always liked that view of 25th December.
The birthday after
My mother died in 2010. Her first birthday without her was very difficult for me. I remember walking around Mesa, Arizona by myself for about 45 min that afternoon, in tears. 25th December would never be the same again. On that day, I knew there were families around the world, filled with joy and happiness. My family was filled with sadness and grief.
The years since
I don’t look forward to 25th December these days, but I try to keep that to myself. I try to not even think about it. I mentioned the other day to Lauren that we don’t have any Christmas tradition, but I’m not sure I want one, because it will be another reminder of the date.
Our kid is excited and I’m doing my best to be excited for her. Knowing this year will be her last Christmas as an only child makes me want her to enjoy it all the more (nothing kills your Christmas more than your sibling getting the gift they really wanted and you getting socks).
I’ve cried every 25th December since my mother died, and I’m sure I’ll cry again this year.
Over the past few years, I try to own Christmas as my mother's day. I try to see the lights and celebrations as the world celebrating the life of the woman who made me who I am. When the day comes though, I know there will be an air of sadness over me, as there is every year.
My mother was born on 25th December. That will never change. Happy birthday, mom!
