Robyn
For the first two years after my father died, my mother completely forgot about my birthday. The day came and went and the only acknowledgment I got was a 10% off birthday coupon postcard from a clothing outlet that I used to frequent. Last year, things went a little better, and she actually remembered to buy me a card, and she pressed a twenty-dollar bill between the generic happy birthday sentiments. I kind of suspect her boy-friend-of-the-month might have been the one to prompt her to buy the card, but still, I appreciated that she at least tried.
When my father was alive, things were different, and birthdays were big deals. There were usually flowers and balloons, a big dinner where the birthday boy or girl got to choose either their favorite home-cooked meal, or a meal out
