One of the hardest moves I ever made was from Connecticut to
Massachusetts in 1994. Perhaps because we had lived in Connecticut for a
record-breaking three years and one month. Within that period of time, we had
found a church we loved and friends we were close to. And we moved to the
middle of nowhere where our church was a distance away and we lived there for
less than two years, hardly time to make friends. I can look back and say it
was a stepping stone to the move we would make the spring after my 16th
birthday to Texas. Because going from Connecticut to Texas would have been
worse.
For my 15th birthday, six months after our move
to Massachusetts, Katey and I went to stay with friends in Connecticut for
several days. And they threw me a surprise bowling party. The next year,
however, I wouldn’t have a birthday party. Or so I thought.
Yes, I had a pity party that Friday of my birthday. My only
excuse is that I’m a selfish human being. Because, honestly, I had had my share
of birthday parties and lots of people had sent me cards for my Sweet Sixteen.
In comparison to my siblings as they each reached sixteen later on, I was quite
blessed. But I’m human. And having to clean the house on your birthday instead
of celebrate isn’t fun. Not to mention having to put on a coat (it was just
cold enough for one – there was a thaw that day as usual) and walk to the post
office. For someone who would run miles for fun a decade later, I made a big
fuss over walking a mile to get the mail.
Knowing me, I probably did one of two things on that walk
with Katey: 1) gave her the cold shoulder or 2) complained loudly of my lot in
life. I don’t remember. I just remember coming back a half later and finding a
house decorated for my birthday and Kerri-Lynn, Katrina and Leah from
Connecticut yelling, “Surprise!”
My 16th birthday would be my last “party”.
Subsequent moves and growing older changed things as one would expect. And
thanks to my parents and especially Katey, it was a memorable one. Thanks!
Me being surprised!
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