I expect this week will be a tough one. It is a birthday week; Not mine, my late husband’s.
It’s that birthday he talked about all the time. And I do mean he talked about it nearly every day.

“Life’s gonna change,” he would say, in that booming voice of his. “I can’t wait until I turn 62 and can get my social security. I’m gonna still do some editing, but it will be easier because I’ll always know I got that social security coming.”

Of course he never made it. And we all, meaning me and the boys, my family, his and his close friends all wanted so much for him to get that first check. He deserved it, you know. The man had worked so hard all his life. It almost seems like he was cheated. I know I shouldn’t say that. We come and go when it’s time for us to. But it ticks me off.
Anyway on August 26 he would have been 62 had he lived. I’m already bracing for it. I’m not sure how it will affect me; maybe not at all. I don’t know.

But I’m sure the boys at some point during their day will stop cold when they recall what day it is. I can’t figure out if I should just let the day come and go and unless someone mentions it to me, not say a word about it. Of course this blog post kinda ruins that, doesn’t it?
Or maybe the boys and I should do something in their dad’s honor. Play some of his music and dance around the house maybe. That would be fun. Or, we could cook something he really liked. We never eat friend chicken any more. It was Ceaser’s favorite. Maybe we should do that, but I can’t fry as well as he could. I could try though. We could do both — fried chicken, Motown, Hip Hop and Opera. It sounds perfect. I really like that idea. Maybe I’ll just plan to do that. He should have a celebration for this day. He looked forward to it for so long and if he were here, oh my, he would have had a shin dig, lots of food that he would cook for his close buds.

It’s funny, everyone else celebrates a birthday, Ceaser used to talk his day up and by the time the actual day came around he would have been celebrating it for an entire week, sometimes even longer.
He could do that. He would tell everyone who would listen that it was his birthday, that he was getting old and usually he’d end up getting something out of the deal — free lunch from a friend, free drinks, some gift or something from a family member or even a pass on a late bill payment. Really! I’m not kidding; he could talk his way in and out of almost anything. It cracked me up.

I mean he isn’t even on this earth any more and here I am planning how to recognize his birthday. The man was good at being the center of attention, seriously. But he did it all in good fun.
So surly we should do some laughing on that day.
I may even take the day off, who knows. That’s what he would do.

I know this Mom2 Mom blog is supposed to be a forum for us writers to stir up conversation that’s of interest to readers. But this time, just this one time, it’s where my friends are, my place to share my fears. This birthday meant so much to the man I just know it is going to break my heart when it rolls around. I already feel it cracking and there are still three days before it gets here. Any suggestions for how to deal with saying happy birthday to Ceaser,  and for helping his boys pass celebrate their dad's day?