Last Friday, Jim and I loaded up his car for a trip to West Virginia. There was a surprise birthday party planned for his aunt on Saturday and we planned to spend the night at a hotel beforehand.
We got a little later start than we wanted and were doing okay until we came upon the exit that we would have normally taken to go to his mom’s house. It was too much and too soon and we pulled over to take a minute – and I took over driving. We debated on just calling it and canceling the trip, but stuck it out and eventually stopped for dinner at Cracker Barrel.
Jim took over driving again and decided to take “the back roads” the rest of the way. Now, the back road in WV are not like the back roads elsewhere. There were hairpin turns in the dark, washed out roads, and dozens of deer. Along with a fox, an opossum, a fox, several feral cats – and Jim thinks he saw a bear.
We made it to the hotel, got checked in, and crashed.
The next morning was a crowded breakfast and more back roads to finally locate the party location. And somehow, in the age of phones and Facebook, they managed to surprise Jim’s aunt. Once she realized what was going on – and who we all were – she started crying in joy and surprise. She spent the rest of the party on Cloud 9 and I think everyone had a good time. I made her some origami earrings and Jim painted some paper butterflies for her – which she loved.
It was a good party and I spent the clean-up time afterwards entertaining the kids with some high-speed paper folding. We all have our roles.
Then it was time for the 4 hour drive back. And while I’m glad we went and we had a good time, it was still rough on Jim. His mom should have been there too and she would have loved it.
We got home safely and later that evening I went on Facebook for a minute – and saw a post from Jeff’s brother the day before. Just a small note about how it would have been Jeff’s birthday.
And I had…forgotten. I’ve never been good at remembering birthdays – even sometimes my own – and when Jeff was alive, I would remember the general time period and have to carefully figure out the date from clues every year.
But I’d forgotten entirely this time. The date of his death? That I remember. But not his birthday.
I felt terrible about that for a while and tried to figure out some way to respond to the post without sounding like an asshole or idiot – and couldn’t come up with anything. So, I let that post go past – as I’d let his birthday go past.
There’s nothing to be done about that. No way to undo any of that – time is closed off behind us. And I have a package of regrets – comfortable in their own persistence – that will linger.
Nothing to be done, but… I had forgotten.