Three Forty One

It is the eve of my 40th Birthday. My friends and family came out to celebrate this milestone in my life last night, actually…wait… it was two nights ago. We had a flashback to the 80’s party, as you all read earlier in the blog and we had a ball. It was great seeing old friends, some whom I haven’t seen in years and the new ones came out to celebrate as well. Not to even mention family members whom I haven’t seen in months, My Auntie Eva came out from Idaho to celebrate with me and my brother, it was a perfect touch to a perfect celebration.
However, I couldn’t help feeling a bit saddened, one person especially didn’t make it to see this milestone happen….my Mother.


I’d received a call from my Comadre Jenny two days before the event, she was to fly out for the party, however, the call was not to give me flight information but to tell me that due to circumstances beyond her control, she was unable to make it. When I heard her finish telling me the news a huge wave of emotion consumed me. I tried to fight the tears and then she said, “Coma’ go ahead and let them out, I know because I did the same.” Just like someone turning on a faucet, I began to sob. I told her in between the tears, “I didn’t think it would affect me like this”. We spoke some more and then we hung up, but not before we said our “I love you’s” …just as we’ve always have because you never know if that’ll be last conversation you ever have with that person.

After the phone call I sat and cried some more, I was baffled as to why I reacted the way I had.
Then it hit me…this is the first birthday without my Mom. A lot of people have told me that the first holidays after a loved one has passed away are the toughest.

The first holiday was her birthday, it was two days after she passed away, but we didn’t grieve, we actually had a birthday dinner for her and celebrated her life, so we still felt a strong presence with us that day.



Then came Mother’s day, yeah, that one was tough; we only stayed long enough for me to give her and my grandmother flowers. The minute I saw the marker where she was buried, I started crying. I looked at my husband and kids and told them, “we need to go” and we left.

Fourth of July came around and 3 of my 4 brothers were with my family and I. We went to our old neighborhood for the Fourth of July firework show. Everything was fine…we had spent the earlier part of the day swimming and then taking long walk to grab some lunch. We returned back to our site where we had setup our chairs to watch the show; we sat to eat and the band started playing. We always liked hearing the band, they played great cover music and we just enjoy ourselves and watching people around us dance and sing along…then it happened. A few cords were played and I knew the song immediately; I felt like the dog that was trained to hear a bell and his mouth started salivating because he knew it was time to eat. For me, it was when I heard “Brown Eyed Girl” that my eyes would tear up and the vision of my Mom in the hospital telling me “My Brown Eyed Girl...every time you hear that song you think of me, okay? I love you”…I turned to my brothers and all three of them must have had the same memory because they too had tears in their eyes. Then to try to make light of it, we all reminded each other of how we spent last Fourth of July in Huntington Beach and how pissed Mom was because she had to walk so far to get to where we were and it was blazing hot. She wanted to kill all of us; we all remembered how she looked at us that day and we just started chuckling about it. Had we known then that we weren’t going to have her with us this Fourth of July, we would have had someone carry her to us, so she would have not had to walk in the heat!

My brother Sergio was the first of us to have his first birthday without Mom. At the party I wanted to know what that felt like. “Brother, this has been bitter sweet since Mom is not here. Since you were the first one to have the first birthday without her, was it hard?”He looked at me and said, “you know Sis, I aint gonna lie…its been tough and I try not to think of it, because if I do, it reminds how I missed her funeral and pain surfaces again. I like to think it’ll get easier, she made was strong, right?” He was right and I told him, “She made us each strong but the five of us together…she made us invincible!!” then he kissed me on my cheek and wished me a happy early birthday.

Then it was Frankie’s turn, the next to experience his first birthday without her. Since the party was on his actual birthday, we didn’t get a chance to talk about it. I do know however, that he was thinking about it because he went to the cemetery to visit her earlier in the day for his birthday before the party started. …which I thought wasn’t a bad idea.
I suppose for me it’s been especially hard because ever since I could remember, every year my Mom would always wake me up the middle of the night to wish me ‘Happy Birthday’; when I was old enough to ask why she always did that, she said, “I always want to be the first to wish you happy Birthday, Mija...it was August 9, 1969 at 3:41 am that you were born. As long as God gives me strength to wake up every year at that time, I will always be the first to wish you happy Birthday.

Since then, no matter where I was on my birthday, whether I was home asleep, I’d get woken up or if I was out for my birthday…there would be note on my bed waiting for me…”its 3:41am, you weren't here, but I wanted to be the first one, Happy Birthday My Brown Eyed Girl”, I’m bummed that I never saved any of those notes. I would have loved to have been able to place those in my scrapbook.

As the years went on, she didn’t have the strength to do it anymore, so I would get phone calls later and later in the day. Now with her being gone, the phone calls at 3:41 am or 3:41 pm will be no more…and that’s hard to accept.

Now as I’m typing this blog entry I look at the clock and its 3:40am, I look at my bedroom door and hoping that at 3:41am she’ll be coming through that door to wake me up and be the first to wish me Happy Birthday. I’m not delusional I know that’ll never happen; I have a better chance of going to sleep and wait for her to appear to me and tell me, “My Brown Eyed Girl made it to 40, Happy Birthday, Mija”

I thought my first Mother’s Day was bad….but I would have to say…no…it’s definitely my first birthday without her….now, that’s tough.