Mom’s Birthday and Taking Compliments

One Day at a Time

The 16th was my mom’s birthday. I woke up Sunday morning and went out to get my mom a card while she and dad were at church. I worried that mom was going to be upset with me for not going to church. My reasons for not going are mostly social rather than spiritual. I have nothing against church or organized religion. I can’t go with mom because she plays the piano for a service on the military base. I don’t have the credentials to get on base without being pulled over, I.D.’d, and searched, I image. My dad is a minister at a small church over in South Carolina (right across the river), and I just don’t like going because everyone asks questions . . . "What are you up to these days? Found a better job yet? An engineering job?" I’d rather not bother with all of that. And the only other alternative is to go to a church and sit by myself. I am technically still a member at a Baptist Church in Augusta . . . we all are, but that church has changed so much and I would not recognize anyone now. And honestly, I’m afraid they would look down on me, with the long hair, beard and all. I just don’t feel like I fit in at that church. I’ve tried a Methodist church and a nondenominational church but it was the same story at both. Sit alone, have maybe one or two people speak to me, and that’s it. Very uncomfortable. Not because of the music or what is said, preached, taught, etc. Just feel alone. So I just don’t bother anymore. Sorry to get off on all of that.

I felt kind of hurt that mom and dad did not invite me to dinner (lunch). I mean . . . mom’s birthday, I figured they would. Then, I thought, "Why didn’t I just call mom up and say hey it’s your birthday I really would like to have dinner with y’all." So, I started to worry mom would be upset that I didn’t ask to have dinner with them, on her birthday. Anyhow, she got home, read the card I had placed on the table for her. She thanked me for it. She said it was very thoughtful and she really appreciated it. She was not angry at all. Quite the opposite. Colour me surprised. As it turned out, I got her an identical card which I gave to her on her birthday in 2005, six years ago. She noticed, and thought perhaps I had done so intentionally, as if to reinforce the same message, knowing she would remember. I didn’t remember. I had forgotten. Felt a little apologetic, actually. "Sorry mom, got you the same card I did 6 years ago." Who knew they re-circulated cards like that. I figured they wouldn’t sell the same ones they did years ago. It’s a nice card though, and it has a little bookmark inside of it, basically saying how grateful I am for mom, the values she has instilled in me, etc. Mom likes stuff like that . . . bookmarks, keep sakes, the like. She showed me she still had the old one from 6 years ago. She actually uses it as a bookmark. Wow, who knew? She also showed me one I gave her many years ago . . . a four-leaved clover I laminated and made into a bookmark and gave to her.

Mom said that she knew I had my own schedule and that was OK, so that’s why they didn’t call me to meet them for dinner. Dad got a cake and we had that later.

It was a nice day.

I got another complement on my hair tonight. A lady at the meeting grabbed me and touched my hair (hate it when people do that) and said, "I just love your hair! I wish I had hair like that! You’ve got better hair than me!" And I replied shyly, "Well, I don’t know about that." When will I just learn to take a damn complement and say THANK YOU. Nothing more. I always have to act so self loathing and undeserving. I guess I secretly hate my hair and I figure people tell me how great it is just to be nice. Why else? If they knew what a pain in the ass it was to deal with, they might think twice. My hair is naturally curly and I guess some people like that . . . wish they had curly hair. I wish it was straight, and feathery, with no frizz. Instead, genetics has given me very curly, very frizzy, voluminous hair, that puffs out. I hate it. Yet I don’t want to cut it. Not yet.

I wish I had Tom Brady hair. Don’t laugh.

-AR