The Wonderment of You: Touchstone

Her: Guess I’m just looking for a reason.

Him: It’s like these pies and cakes. At the end of every night, the cheesecake and apple pie are always completely gone. The peach cobbler and chocolate mousse cake are nearly finished, but there's always a whole blueberry pie left untouched.

Her: So what’s wrong with the blueberry pie?

Him: There’s nothing wrong with the blueberry pie. It’s just that people make other choices. You can’t blame the blueberry pie… it’s just… no one wants it.

Her: I want a piece…

Him: With ice cream? Leave it to me.

[smiles]*

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When you have a December birthday, it’s tough to have people celebrate, much less remember. And the closer the day is to Christmas, the worse it gets. I suppose that’s why I rarely had my birthday celebrated—and when a big deal was made, it actually made me embarrassed, as I had no idea how to react.

Conversely, I guess that’s why I try to make it a point to remember other people’s birthdays. At the very least I’ll call them or send a card even if I’ve missed the day. While it may not matter much to them if I call on the day, after the fact or forget completely, if there’s an off chance they may feel forgotten, I wouldn’t want them to experience it. And if you think about it, as mine is a December birthday, it’s generally a cold day—and when you feel forgotten and forlorn…well, I needn’t say how much more you feel the sting.

It was Rider’s birthday today. Somehow I got the feeling she wasn’t looking forward to it and wished to spend it alone—when I invited her to dinner, she declined and asked if we could do it after her birthday. Nonetheless I sent her a card and left her a corny voicemail. As it happened, I got a call from my banker later in the evening. As we hung up, I mentioned it was Rider’s birthday today and might be a good idea to call her now before it got too late. I was surprise when my banker declined stating that it had been a tough day. Besides, the banker retorted, it wasn't as if Rider had remembered the banker's birthday nor had the banker had birthdays celebrated in year's past.

The banker’s response didn’t anger me as much as it saddened me. I had just promised to do the banker yet another favor on Saturday and that I would call in on that morning to confirm…which I had every intention of doing. Somehow while it was okay for me to go out of my way to fulfill and commit this idiotic favor on my day off, the small task of calling a mutual friend was bothersome because of some flimsy reason. As the banker stated, "why should I?". I could have said the same. I didn't.

Birthdays can be a sensitive thing. Which brings up a question I’ve tussled with for some time now: I always wondered if she remembered my birthday.

Apparently she had something in mind as she called me maybe a month before to check my schedule. She couldn’t take the day off she said, but could we celebrate the day after, she asked. It brought a warm feeling in me…and caught me completely by surprise. I remember I had pulled into my office parking lot, standing beside my car early in the morning taking her call. She had rung me between appointments and need to know as she was trying to block out days off during the holidays.

I didn’t care what she had in mind, but the thought of spending an entire day or evening and having her all to myself would have been enough for me.

A few weeks later we were at store and she happened to buy a St. John dress, I mentioned to her how nice it looked on her. I always had a weakness in the way she dressed. She smiled, and causally replied that she might just wear it for me on my birthday. From that day on, I looked forward to day when she would walk down her stairway as I admired how beautiful she looked, standing in her foyer

That moment was always my favorite part of picking her up. Her walking down the stairway, always dressed so wonderfully—a style that was hers completely. I melted each time.

We weren’t together by the time my birthday came so I never found out what she had in mind, nor did I see her in the St. John. To that point I’m not sure if she even remembered my birthday as I didn’t hear from her. Given her medical situation at the time it was completely understandable.

I do however hold onto the slight chance that she did think about me, even if it were for a fraction of a moment.

…don’t you know that I can make a dream that’s barely half awake come true?**



*Kar Wai Wong, My Blueberry Nights
**Aimee Mann, Coming Up Close