Birthday

O Lord,
Yesterday I turned 35.
Like Dante writing at the beginning
Of his Divine Comedy,
I stand
At the midpoint of my life.

For me, it was a day
Like any other,
Filled with the responsibilities
Of work and daily living.
And yet,
Memories and daydreams
Assaulted me all day,
Dancing around this date.

I saw myself born,
And for the first time,
It is not the daydream
Of my mom
Giving birth to me
In a Brooklyn hospital.
It is Bogotá, Colombia,
Our Lady of Bethlehem Hospital,
And a woman I have
No conscious memory of
Is giving birth to me at 3AM.
Am I her first born,
Or somewhere else in a line of siblings?
Why is there no father's name
On the birth certificate?
Who do I look like, I wonder?
Has she already decided
To give me up for adoption,
Or will she make that decision later,
Having laid eyes on me
For the first and last time?

I saw countless other birthdays,
A steady stream
Of crepe paper, signs, cards and gifts.
Mommie could turn
Any occasion into a celebration.
I awaken,
And run into the dining room
To find the walls and chairs -
Cups and plates, even! -
Alive with decorations.
Always, a card or a note
Would greet me
At my place setting.
This is what I miss the most...

I saw my 23rd birthday.
We are at Calverton.
Daddy's cedar casket
Stands before us.
They play "Taps,"
And we collectively weep.

I saw my 30th birthday.
Mommie had just passed in October.
It is a milestone, people keep telling me,
But the joy has evaporated
From my life.
I want to be happy,
But I don't know how to do that.
It takes a long time
To remember how to.

And yesterday?
Yesterday may very well have been
The last time I celebrate
A birthday in New York.
I had received
Birthdays calls, texts, emails
And Facebook messages
All day long.
My sister,
Who is angry with me,
Had not called or texted or ANYTHING
To wish me happy birthday
Until 7:30 in the evening.
It shouldn't bother me...
But it does.
I had dinner
With my best friend,
And the wandering momma,
Somehow grafted in
To a family
Not of my own design.

And in two months' time,
We will be relocating to Arizona.

At the Vegas Diner,
The waiter Eric
Stirred up a crowd of waiters and waitresses
Who took time out of their day
To bring me a slice of chocolate layer cake
And sing to me "Happy Birthday."
I felt eerily like Blanche Dubois:
"Whoever you are, I have always depended
On the kindness of strangers."

How different will my birthdays be
Moving forward?
Who will be around the cake next year?
Who won't be?

Lord,
Life is a gift,
And you have given me
A good life.
You have been with me
All this time,
From Colombia
And Before.
Continue to guide me,
And make Your Will,
Your Way, and Your Presence
Ever known to me.

Heal the breach now present
Between my sister and I.
This work is far beyond me.
I leave it in Your Capable Hands.

Father,
Thank you
For another birthday.